Bad Moon Rising:
by VeritaParlata
Summary: While searching for her missing sister, a journalist unwittingly becomes embroiled in a deadly mob war and stumbles across a mystery far deeper and more sinister than she ever anticipated.
1. Prologue

Bad Moon Rising

Rating: Mature  
Characters: Jason Morgan/Cordelia 'Cordi' Roberts (OFC); other various characters  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from _General Hospital, One Life to Live, or any other network soap opera_.  
**Prompt:** Seeing yourself in the eyes of another.  
**Premise:** While searching for her missing sister, a reporter unwittingly becomes embroiled in a deadly mob war and stumbles across a mystery far deeper and more sinister than she ever anticipated.

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Prologue, _The End of Days_:

"_Neither enemy faces, nor the mothers that love them, come to mind when one is thinking of nothing but endeavoring to survive." _- Linda Berdoll

The smell of blood tainted the room.

Standing in the middle of the floor in the tiny shack, surrounded by blood and the smell of decaying bodies, her hands shook and she dropped the weapon she carried to the floor. It hit the dirt floor with a muted thud. Nausea began to coil in the pit of her belly, rising up through her quickly and threatening to spill. She had never felt so sick in her life. Every nerve and instinct in her body was commanding her to run. To run as fast and as far as her legs could carry her. The tears brimming in her eyes threatened to spill but never did. Just as if she was, they froze in place.

For the moment, everything was still.

There was not a sound heard over the roaring of her blood. Her shallow, raspy breaths were unsteady and hardly provided her lungs with the nourishment they craved. Her brown eyes scanned the room slowly. Body after body lay on the floor, friends and enemies of her plight. Though the room was quiet, she could still hear screaming. Could still feel the pain her enemies inflicted upon her body. Could still hear the gunshots and smell the blood.

Suddenly, she dropped to her knees and vomited. She cried out, her voice breaking off in a shrieking sob, as her senses overpowered her. Feelings of anger, rage, sickness, hatred, depression and pain... She shut her eyes tightly as another wave hit her. Her mind was swimming in a sea of despair and she was content to die in that spot in that moment.

She almost wished for it...

Then something deep inside her told her to move. Fierce propulsion started in the pit of her stomach and she stood. Night was falling across the horizon and she had to get out of there soon. If she had any chance of surviving, she had to leave now.

Despite her initial revulsion, she took the boots off one of the dead soldiers and hurriedly placed them on her own feet. She wore a pair of ragged pants covered in blood, but she figured they'd be warm enough to sustain her. She highly doubted the soldier's pants would fit even if she tied them securely. She didn't have time for that at any rate. Nothing could slow her down. She took another soldier's jacket to cover her arms. She knew from experience the desert grew cold at night. After gathering water in a few canteens, she picked up as many firearms as she could carry. Including the one she dropped from her hands moments before. Picking up a flashlight and ammunition to stuff in her pockets, she left the shack without so much as a glance back.

However, the faces of her friends, as well as her enemies, left in that room would haunt her forever.

She barely walked a quarter mile down the only road she could find when she heard the tank. Every nerve in her body sparked fear and trepidation. She looked around quickly for a place to hide; then ran quickly to the dense shrubs spotted a few feet away, making sure she was covered from sight behind them.

When the trucks grew close enough to see, she saw the American soldiers and relief flooded her system.

Running from her hiding place to the middle of the road, she flagged them down. The large, looming trucks and the tank stopped a few feet from her and she couldn't remember a happier time in her life than this.

One of the soldiers jumped down from the armored truck and ran to her. "Ma'am, are you hurt?" he asked her. She couldn't help but notice that his voice and the rest of the surrounding sounds were distorted. "Ma'am, is the blood yours?"

Blinking her brown eyes slowly, she watched the sun set against the horizon. "No," she answered resolutely.

"Are you in any pain?"

"My ribs…a little," she answered as he helped her toward the truck. She looked him over, for the first time really paying attention to him. He was young man with friendly blue eyes; blue eyes that reminded her of the ocean.

"Can you tell me your name?" the soldier with the friendly eyes asked her as he helped her into the truck.

"Cordi," she muttered softly. Fatigue was beginning to settle in her body. "Cordelia Roberts."

The soldier beside the one she had been speaking with clicked the radio attached to his shoulder holster. "Lieutenant," he called. "We've found her. We have the reporter who was captured."

Cordelia barely heard the lieutenant's response. As soon as she stopped moving, and the fear had subsided, her body reminded her just how tired it was; and just how much it had been through because of her capture.

"Ma'am," the blue-eyed soldier was speaking to her again, but she was having a hard time focusing. "What about the other captives? Were there any others?"

"Dead," Cordelia muttered in response, her eyes half closed as sleep engulfed her. "They're all dead."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One, _Miles to Go Before I Sleep_:

Dense clouds hung in the night sky as Cordelia knelt in the shadows next to a massive warehouse on the waterfront. She waited for the night watchman to move down to the warehouse she previously checked before quickly, and stealthily, heading for the side entrance. She hoped this warehouse would be different and something gnawing in the pit of her stomach told her it would be. She dropped her bag on the ground next to her; thankful that the clouds continued to provide her with the shadow she needed.

"I don't think you're going to need the toys, Cordi," her partner's voice came in clearly over her earpiece. "I've been watching these warehouses for the past week and everyone in town seems to have access this particular one."

Disheartened with being unable to use her toys to break in, Cordelia sighed. "That could be a good sign. Maybe I'll find out something that will point me in the right direction."

"I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this one," he said and Cordelia rolled her eyes.

The corners of her mouth curves into a subtle smile. "Rex, you always have a bad feeling." It has been two years since the two best friends met in Iraq; Rex saved her on the side of the road and has been a permanent fixture in her life since then.

Rex Balsom could not deny that. Ever since he and Cordelia have come to Port Charles, he has had a bad feeling. He's had a terribly bad feeling about this town, the people in it and about their search.

"Cordi, I know you want to find your sister. I want to help you find her. But..." Rex began softly.

He didn't know how to tell her that the chances of finding her grew slimmer with every passing day. He didn't want to tell her that the outcome would most likely be worse than not knowing. He was sure she knew all of that anyway being an investigative reporter and war survivor.

"What are you saying, Rex?" Cordelia asked, and the defensive tone of her voice was unmistakable.

"I'm saying be careful. This town is full of Mafioso families and other sorts of criminals. It's worse than Llanview and Washington combined."

"Aww, that's cute. You care about my safety," she said and glanced over her right shoulder in his direction. She couldn't see him from where she stood; he was situated atop a building not far away. However, she knew he could see her through the scope of the sniper rifle and binoculars so she smiled at him. They both knew it wasn't her safety that he was worried about. It was the safety of anyone who dared to get in her way. Rex knew very well what Cordelia was capable of and what would happen if someone pushed her to the limit.

_Cordelia sat calmly at the large table in the middle of the room. It has been one month since her rescue in the desert. One month since she was brought to this military base deep behind enemy lines. She has had a therapy session in the room every afternoon for a month and she knew the room for what it was: an interrogation room. No actual therapy room had a two way mirror and Cordelia knew that on the other side sat three men who watched and recorded her every move._

_She was half-tempted to smile coldly into the camera in the far corner while making an obscene gesture with her hands when the doctor came in. She looked on the clock above the door: two pm exactly - right on time. The doctor took his seat – moving it so that it angled away from the table. Cordelia watched as he did this casually, as if to not draw attention to the move. Cordelia bit back a smirk. Didn't the man realize by now that she noticed everything? She noticed everything from the way he waddled his portly body to the mole on his right cheek. _

"_Good afternoon, Cordelia," he said in a way that came off as overly friendly but Cordelia knew he was just being cordial. He didn't look at her while addressing her, nor did he even chance a smile. Nothing about this session - as they called them – would be supportive or helpful. They simply were not designed that way. The only people these sessions helped were the men behind the glass._

_Cordelia didn't know who they were, she didn't even care at this point. All she wanted was to go home; for them to stop treating her as a prisoner. Weeks of torture have made her weary and she longed for home. _

_Just the mere thought of the word invoke strong emotions within her. She could see the front steps of her parent's mansion situated in the lush rolling hills of Virginia. Could almost smell the freshly cut grass on the front lawn. She hated growing up there but loved the adventures she and her siblings had when they were children. How she longed to spend time with them, and the rest of her family, again. How she longed to tell them that she thought of them every single day during her imprisonment._

"_I've invited someone to join us for today's session, Cordelia," the doctor told her. She was so engrossed with her visions of home that his voice barely registered with her. _

_Her eyes immediately went to the door expectantly. Silently, she hoped her father would walk through the door but knew that would be too much to ask. He was a general in the United States Army and was far too busy to be troubled with his daughter. Her mother was a United States Senator and was also far too busy to travel all this way simply because her child needed comforting. Cordelia knew better than to expect the impossible, but still, she waited... and hoped._

_Instead of either of her parents, in walked the blue-eyed soldier who tended to her wounds when she was rescued. She had not seen him since that fateful evening but could not deny the spark of familiarity and serenity that filled her. The young man smiled at her, his blue eyes shining like diamonds, but made no further movements._

"_Do you remember him?" the doctor asked and Cordelia nodded. "I asked Rex-" that was his name. "-to join us for our final session today for two reasons. One: he is a physical witness to your state of mind on August 6th and two: you've mentioned him in almost every session and obviously feel relaxed by his presence. I'm hoping in your relaxed state, you'll be able to provide more information about your capture and subsequent escape."_

"_I've already told you everything," Cordelia said, her voice low and even. Her eyes grew cold and distant as the blood began to boil under the surface. She didn't want to talk about her ordeal anymore – she didn't want to think about it at all. She would much rather think about home._

"_I'm sure you believe that. And your conscious mind probably has been exhausted, but it's the subconscious that we're after here." His tone was condescending and Cordelia had to fight the urge to lunge across the table and snap his fat neck like a twig. "Before we get started, do you have any questions?" _

_He motioned against the mirror and two large men entered the room. One carried the large electromagnetic device that would carry a charge directly to her brain. The doctor felt that her mind had simply shut down during her imprisonment and that pain – electric shock – was the best stimuli in getting through some of her barriers. Never mind that it left her drained and in quite a bit of pain... as long as he received the answers he was looking for._

_The second large man carried a silver pail and cloths to clean up the contents of her empty stomach when she vomited from the 'treatment'. They were also there to ensure the safety of the doctor, as she was prone to violent outbursts when in pain._

"_Yeah," she began slowly as the first large man hooked up the pads to her temples. She angled her head so the doctor could see the serious intent in her eyes. "When you're done poking and prodding my brain, do I get to go home, or at the very least beat the crap out of you for your speaking to me as if I'm slow witted? How about for asking me the same pointless questions every day for a month when the answers don't change? Or how about for you just being a prick?"_

_This was the first time the doctor ever showed an ounce of fear – sweat rolled down his face from the crown of his balding head and Cordelia smiled for the first time in months. Even with his bodyguards in the room, he was afraid of one tiny woman._

_Cordelia locked eyes with Rex, who looked as if he were going to be sick, when the doctor pushed the button and the first painful wave hit her... and her screams filled the room._

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Cordelia looked around the large warehouse. It was not a regular warehouse but a cannery. She recognized the columns from a picture of her missing sister, taken by a police officer in this very town. Other than the fact that her sister was indeed in this building, Cordelia had nothing else to go on.

She looked around as quickly and as thoroughly as she could. She couldn't figure out why her younger sister would be in a cannery on the docks in a city so far from home. Let alone with a man who was on the FBI's watch list. She couldn't imagine what kind of trouble her sister was in and she didn't want to. All she wanted to do was find her and bring her home safely.

A task that grew harder by the hour.

Suddenly, something flashing red a few yards in front of her caught her attention. She stepped a bit closer to find out what it was, hoping that it wasn't a camera, and saw that it was something far worse.

"Hey, Rex," she spoke slowly while backing away at the same pace. "When you were watching this building did you see any contractors or construction crews?"

"No, why?"

"Because there are incendiary devices on every column; and they are all on countdown mode. I have less than two minutes."

She heard him curse under his breath and then nothing but silence.

"Rexy, did you hear me? Explosive laden building with your best friend inside; I need a way out. The outer door locked shut when I entered. It must be a safety measure."

Still silence.

"Rex!" she hissed as loudly as she could. "Don't mean to be a bitch but I don't want to die tonight."

"Death by explosives might not be your only problem tonight. I have five cars of highly armed men surrounding that building. Six more cars are a block away." Rex didn't have to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes and cursing her bad luck. "I think a mob showdown is en route and you're on the playing field." He heard the soft swoosh of her running feet. "What are you doing, Cordi?"

"I have to get out of this building before it explodes." She was in full sprint now, heading toward the back of the cannery where the stairs led to the docks and water. "I remember the layout...vaguely. I'm heading in the direction of the docks. Move to the south side of the building you're on. I should be in your sight in five... four... three..." She pushed through doors and heard him moving along the gravel stone rooftop. "... two... one."

She hit the exiting door and it closed behind her with a loud thud. She was sure the men Rex was talking about were inside the building or at least still on the main street. Yet, she hadn't expected one rather large man to be standing at this exit armed with a gun. His brown eyes met her green ones with the same surprise. His reflexes were just as quick as hers were and he had drawn and aimed his gun at her in a matter of second. Cursing herself for going in unarmed, she raised her hands in surrender.

Cordelia could see the red laser beam from Rex's rifle and gave a subtle wave of her hand to stop him from firing. This man obviously worked for the mob and her sister was last seen with someone of interest to the FBI – maybe he was in the mob as well. This could work in her favor.

"Who do you work for?" Her new captor asked in an even tone.

Cordelia didn't answer. Instead, watched as the man's counterpart – not nearly as big but rather muscular as well – came around the corner. He trained his gun on her as well. The large man she previously encountered pulled out a phone and hit a single button.

"Yeah," he began. "Milo and I caught a woman running from the cannery Sonny is having the meeting in. What should I do with her?" He waited for an answer. "Alright," he said finally and placed the phone back in his pocket.

He grabbed Cordelia's arm and pulled her towards the car parked a few yards away. He said something to another guard posted on the side of the building and forced her in the back of the car. He sat on the other side of her, gun in hand, while Milo drove them away.

She sat calmly in the back seat counting in her head. She was sure that Rex had gotten the faces of all and the license plate number and had rallied the troops. She'd be out of this in no time and maybe with some answers and new leads on her sister's whereabouts.

_Four... three... two... one._

The building and ground shook as the explosives went off and as the car sped away, Cordelia could see the flames in the background that reminded her of times she would much rather forget.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two, _Forever In a Day:_

The black Mercedes raced speedily down the roadway. The driver, frantic and angered with one of the occupants, did not see the black Porsche following them steadily. Milo Giambetti tried to focus on driving to Sonny's safe house in the woods half a mile outside of Port Charles but the explosion at the warehouse kept replaying in his mind. Was Sonny alive? What about his other men – his friends – were they dead, too? Even at the thought of his friends and his boss being dead or at the very least trapped underneath a collapsing building, he was very thankful his brother was not.

Currently, his brother Max was in the back seat guarding the tiny woman they found running from the building before it exploded. The brown-haired woman seemed oddly calm for a woman with a gun pointed in her side and Milo hoped, for her sake, she was not the one who planted the bombs. He hoped for her sake that she wasn't an operative for the Zacchara family.

Cordelia sat composed in the back seat. The driver – _Milo_ – and his partner – _Max_ – were the polar opposite. Frenzy, nervousness, and anger dictated their every action. They were so consumed with the explosion at the cannery that they didn't check her for weapons, tracking devices, earpieces or anything else. She would normally chalk that type of oversight up to anger. The behemoth next to her clearly showed his anger by shoving his weapon in her side every few seconds. He hadn't asked her a single question since they've been in the car or even bound her hands. Those were not simple mistakes made in anger. They were the kind of mistakes one made in fear. These men were afraid and she could almost smell it on them and she would use it to her advantage if needed.

All of a sudden, Milo swerved violently to miss an oncoming car and Cordelia caught sight of her Porsche in the rear view mirror. She smirked a bit. Rex has been dying to drive that car, practically begging her every time they hit a new town for the chance to see how fast she could go.

Rex must have known she was thinking of him because he chose that moment to speak to her. Or perhaps he could hear Milo yelling into his cell phone and Max yelling to Milo through her hidden microphone and figured they wouldn't be able to hear his voice.

"Cordi, I've notified the guys. They're all on high alert; especially John. He's about three miles out and can have a chopper in the sky and towards you in thirty seconds. You say the word and we'll make these mob boys wish they'd never gotten out of bed this morning."

Cordelia wanted to laugh but was unable to by Max shoving his weapon in her side once again. His complexion had taken on a rosy tint and he was sweating. He stared at the pretty brunette, who seemed no worse for the wear, and grew more irate when she didn't even acknowledge him or the gun in her side. Cordelia could see him out the corner of her eyes and saw that he looked ready to pounce on her. His nostrils flared with every exaggerated breath, his eyes were narrowed slits but still conveyed the fear he was trying desperately to mask as anger.

"You better pray that Sonny survives that explosion," Max told her, his voice shaking with every word. "Or you'll wish you never set foot in Port Charles."

Finally, the behemoth said something she could use. It was time to get some answers. Instead of remaining quiet, Cordelia chose that moment to respond.

"If I wanted Sonny dead," she began, her voice even and controlled. Making it a point to speak the names clearly so Rex could hear them. "He would be." She drove the last point home by turning to face Max.

His brown eyes flared in anger and, for a moment, Cordelia almost expected him to hit her. He did not, but instead took her statement as an admission of guilt. "How much did the Zacchara pay you to bomb the warehouse?" he asked but didn't wait for her to answer, probably figuring she wouldn't. "They can't help you now. They've just brought a war down on themselves."

Turning her head so that she was no longer facing him, "I don't work for the Zaccharas. And even if I did, they'd be the least of your worries," she threatened him subtly. Positive that Rex had gotten the names they kept mentioning, Cordelia decided to remain silent again until they reached their destination. Whoever these men were, they clearly were underlings and were taking her to meet someone else. Someone who possibly had more answers. She would just have to bide her time.

Max didn't know what to say after that and anything he would have said would have probably been ignored. That would have only made him even angrier and at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to hurt this woman. He never in his life contemplated hurting a woman, not even Faith Roscoe, but dealing with Faith was easy compared to the woman who sat quietly next to him. With Faith, you knew what buttons to push to get a reaction. This woman was a mystery.

He had Milo pull over to the side of the road once they reached the marker just outside the city Rex not too far behind but still unnoticed. He held the gun on her and instructed her to turn away from him and place her hands behind her back. She did and Milo handed him the handcuffs that Max promptly bound her with. He then placed a blindfold across her eyes and tied it very tightly. Cordelia deduced that they were taking her to a secret location and didn't want her to know the way in case she were to escape or they set her free. Whatever the case, she didn't dwell too much on it, as it was not important. Max turned her and shoved her back against the seat. Even though she'd been bound, he kept the gun in her side. With her sight taken away, her other senses heightened and she could feel his hand shake slightly with the gun. She could smell the fear dripping off him and, oddly, that calmed her while forcing her to remember a time not long passed.

_Cordelia's screams filled the room. Her body convulsed violently when the pain was at its worst and slowed to a shiver when it subsided. Sweat poured from her, covering her caramel skin in a glossy film. Tears poured from green eyes to drip down her sunken-in cheeks. The white tank top they provided her with dripped with moisture and clung tightly to her malnourished body. Her fingers gripped the edge of the chair she sat in so tightly her knuckles looked white._

_The doctor was talking to her but she couldn't make out what he was saying. The only sounds she could hear was the electric crackle of the pad attached to her skin and her screams. Her eyelids shut tightly in pain and the images before them were worse than anything she could imagine. Dead bodies were lying on a floor; and blood was pouring from wounds tainting the air. She could almost smell it._

_She was back in the moment that changed her life. Back in the moment that would haunt her forever._

_She wanted it to stop. To cry out and beg the doctor to stop torturing her, but the words would not come. Her tongue simply would not cooperate. For this was the penance for her sins._

_Finally, the pain stopped. Her back hit the chair with excessive force before she slumped forward, gasping for air. The contents of her stomach erupted from her with violent force onto the floor and one of the soldiers cleaned it up promptly._

_The doctor moved in front of her once the spot was clean and somehow managed to make his portly body stoop low enough for him to see her face. She could not see him with her eyes still closed but she could smell his obnoxious scent and it made her stomach churn._

"_You're still blocking, Cordelia." The scent of his breath hit her nose and it made her want to vomit. "You have to go beyond the surface."_

"_I don't know anything," she said through gritted teeth. Finally opening her eyes, she raised her head just a bit to pin him with a lethal gaze. She could smell his fear. They had finally succeeded in turning her into an animal._

"_Yes, you do," he told her, slightly uncomfortable with the look she was giving him and trying to mask it. "You were held captive for more than a month by six insurgents. They raped you..." his voice was beginning to sound distorted in her ears. "... beat you... you were sleep deprived for days on in... hardly ate." _

_Her eyes grew cloudy but no less lethal. Rex noticed this and his concerns grew. He had a hard enough time watching the way the doctor treated her before they started, but watching her body wracked with pain and now hearing the doctor remind her of her torturous ordeal was more than he could take._

"_Stop this," he said softly. "She's had enough. Look at her. Look what you've done to her."_

_The doctor didn't even spare Rex a glance. "She can take much more. You and I both know that." He sounded angry and frightened as well._

"_It's inhumane what you're doing to her. She's not a prisoner here."_

_That did get the doctor to look at him. He stood erect but did not move from in front of her. "Look at her," the doctor, commanded of Rex. "She's barely 130 pounds right now and can take pure electrical shock to her core." He looked at Rex indignantly. "There are soldiers three times her size on this base that can't do that."_

_Rex looked at Cordelia. She was leaning slumped over and her breathing was ragged. She had let go of the edge of the chair and her knuckles regained their coloring. For the first time, Rex felt as though he was actually seeing her. He had seen her around the compound but was never permitted to speak with her. He would always remember the way she looked when they found her on the road. Covered in bloodstained clothes, shivering from the cold, frail and fatigued. He admired her then. Admired her for her survival instincts and that has not changed._

_He moved around the doctor to stand at her side. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he silently wished he could take her pain away. _

"_She's not a soldier or a weapon. She is a woman. And she's been through enough," Rex said calmly. "How can you do this to her? You're a doctor, for goodness' sake!"_

"_I'm an American first!" The doctor was irate. "We're fighting a losing war in a hostile country! Many young soldiers just like you are killed every single day in this country to keep terrorism at bay. Many Americans in this country are being taken hostage and held as bargaining chips, just as she has, to be used against the American government. Many of them don't make it home. She will. She – a woman as you said - one_ woman took down six _armed Iraqi soldiers at less than 130 pounds. One woman killed five civilian hostages in a fit of rage and walked away the only survivor." The doctor's eyes began to twinkle with something akin to madness. "Don't you want to know how?" he asked Rex seriously, his facial expression contorting from one of anger to sheer astonishment. "Don't you want to know the secrets locked in her brain that could produce such events? This is more than the mere will to survive. It has to be." He looked down at Cordelia but it was as if he was looking through her. He touched her head softly. "The answer...it's locked in here somewhere and I intend to find out what it is. Even if I have to kill her to do it."_

_The doctor stepped from in front of her to head back to the machine. Rex started to speak, to defend her, but before he could, Cordelia has risen quickly from the chair headed for the doctor. She reached him in barely a second and snapped his neck. The sound of his spinal cord cracking lasted a mere second and his body fell lifelessly to the ground._

_Soldiers filled the room quickly all weaponry drawn and aimed at her. Rex tried to calm them but Cordelia simply stood in the middle of the floor. Her face held a blank expression and her green eyes seemed focused on something that wasn't present in the room with her. Rex wasn't sure what would happen next and he dreaded finding out._

"_Stand down," a commanding voice said from the open doorway. The man walked inside, his eyes never swaying from Cordelia. Rex recognized him as the commanding officer of that base - a General. A no-nonsense general who was more concerned with the survival of American soldiers than the civilians on this base. "Everyone except Corporal Balsom, please leave."_

_The men filed out of the room reluctantly._

"_Sir," Rex tried speaking out of turn. "She snapped. She..."_

"_Quiet," the general, said, not ever taking his eyes off the tiny woman. He placed his hands her bare shoulder. "Delia?" he whispered. "Delia, its Dad."_

Rex suppressed his shocked surprise at finding out that his CO had a daughter. Let alone one who had been captured. He was pleasantly surprised when Cordelia responded.

"_Dad?"  
__  
The general relaxed a bit and pulled her into an embrace. "Yes, my baby," he soothed her. _

_Cordelia didn't cling to him the way he wanted but made no move to break free of him. She sensed someone was still in the room with her and turned slightly to see Rex. Her eyes also caught sight of the body on the floor. She didn't need to ask if that was her doing... she already knew the answer._

_The general called someone into the room and asked them to escort his daughter to his quarters and make sure she ate something and received some much-needed rest. He kissed her forehead and let her go, telling her that he would be along shortly._

Rex drove like a mad man trying to keep up with the black Mercedes that held his best friend. Not an easy task since the other driver drove like a mad man as well, and because Rex had to remain unseen. He had no doubt that Cordelia knew he was following. He would always come for her. Always save her, no matter whom he had to save her from. He made that promise long ago.

_Once Cordelia and the uniformed soldier were out of earshot, the general addressed Rex._

"_What happened here..."_

"_He was killing her, Sir," Rex answered, foolishly thinking it was a question. "He was a sick bastard who was using her as some kind of experiment."_

_The general remained quiet for a long moment. Rex was unsure what to make of that but watched as the general moved to look closely at the doctor's body. "Fool," he said softly._

"_Sir?"_

"_I told him not to get too close to her. I told him to push her, to find her limit, but not to get close. To always keep a man between them."_

_For the second time, Rex had to hide his surprised shock. "You... you knew what he was doing to your own daughter?"_

_The general stood up then walked back to face Rex. "We're at war here, Balsom. Certain... sacrifices have to be made for the good of all."_

_Rex didn't hide his disgust. "Even your own daughter?"_

"_Doctor Reardon wouldn't have killed her. He just wanted to get answers that we need." A small smile came to his aging face. "He was the best psychotherapist in the world and... well... you see."_

"_You didn't see what that monster did to her; or what she went through to give you your answers... Sir." The last word exaggerated in disgust._

"_I can see that you care for my daughter and I'm glad. She's going to need someone to look after her when she returns to the States. I know that your service and deployment is over soon and I would like you to do just that. I would consider it a personal favor."_

_Rex didn't know whether to hit the general or run from him. He seemed to be just as mad as the doctor was. Truthfully, he wanted to do both. How could a man let his daughter go through such an excruciating ordeal? He thought about Cordelia and all she has gone through and he could not imagine abandoning her._

"_What's your answer, son?"_

"_I'll do it," he answered resolutely. "But not for you. Not even for myself. I'm doing it for her. She's lost enough already."_

_The general smirk then nodded sagely. He turned to leave but tossed Rex a look over his shoulder. "You cut me off before I could finish. What happened here today... is to never be mentioned again to anyone." he finished and strolled out of the room. Leaving Rex alone in a room, with a dead man, that even though was still, sounded of screams._

**- - - - - - - - - - - - - -**

The car stopped along the gravel driveway. Cordelia heard the driver's side door open and close, then the patter of steps along gravel. The door closest to her opened and someone pulled her from the seat. She counted five steps from the car to the door of wherever they were. Wherever they brought her was not what she expected. It did not feel cold at all.

They walked her a bit; maneuvering her around what she guessed was furniture. The whole place smelled clean and woodsy. They sat her in a chair and bound her legs to the chair's legs. Then, they removed the handcuffs from her hands behind her back only to cuff them once more in the front. Finally, they left her alone still blindfolded.

It was no more than ten minutes later when she heard movement in the room. Someone was close to her but she didn't call out. She didn't show any fear or concern at all.

Someone unzipped her jacket and pulled it down and off her roughly. She thought the worst for just a second before feeling her shirtsleeve pushed up and something cold and wet touching her skin. Then, something small and sharp punctured her skin.

Someone was drugging her.

Whatever drugs they pumped into her system worked fast. In less than a minute, she felt groggy and disoriented. Her mind wandered in the darkness while waiting for whatever else was to come.

_Cordelia sat in her seat on the plane anxiously. She was going home today after a year in this country. Three months ago she was a prisoner of insurgents and wasn't sure if she'd make it out alive. Two months ago, she'd been rescued by American soldiers but treated for her trauma in the worst way possible. _

_She had done things that she wished she could take back. Things that, she knew, would haunt her for the rest of her days. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax, as she grew more anxious. She wanted nothing more than to go home and see her family._

"_Is this seat taken?" she heard and opened her eyes to see Rex standing there._

_Cordelia smiled automatically. Shaking her head, "No," she answered softly._

_She watched him as he stored his bag in the overhead compartment before sitting next to her. He gave her a smile that warmed her heart. "We've never been properly introduced," he said. "I'm Rex Balsom." He extended his hand and she shook it gently with a smile._

"_Cordelia Roberts."_

"_Very nice to meet you, Cordelia Roberts," he replied with a sweet smile whilst still holding her hand. He was pleased to see that she relaxed. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. "So," he began, still holding her hand. "Tell me about yourself."_

"_What do you want to know?" she asked, well aware of his flirting but thankful nonetheless._

"_Everything."_

"_Why?" she questioned him with a furrowed brow._

"_Because I think you and I could be very good friends," he answered honestly. "Don't you think so?"_

_She looked him over for a long while as if trying to decide. She remembered how she took care of her in the jeep when his convoy rescued her and how she tried to stop the doctor from using her as a lab rat. How friendly he'd been toward her after what she'd done to the doctor. _

_Somewhere deep inside, Cordelia felt she could trust him. He didn't have to do any of the nice things he's done for her, didn't have to reach out to her at all... but he did. When others would run, he stayed._

"_Yes," she answered finally. "I think we could become very good friends, too."_


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three, _Impressions_:

_There was an awful feeling that gnawed away in the pit of her stomach. She had been having the most horrible dreams lately. Dreams that ranged from her less than ideal childhood to her time in Iraq. However, none of those dreams compared to the nightmares she started to have about her sister a few short weeks ago._

_They all started when her younger sister left her an e-mail telling her she was going away for a few days with her new boyfriend. That was a month ago and Cordelia hasn't heard from her since. Cordelia didn't receive a phone call, or a postcard or even an e-mail from her sister. There was nothing. Nothing at all and that worried her._

_It wasn't that she didn't like her sister's boyfriend; in fact, she hardly knew him at all. She'd only met him once when she and Rex returned to her ancestral home in Virginia for Christmas after she returned home from war. Her parents and siblings insisted that she come and spend time with them and Cordelia refused to go without Rex there to keep her sane. Her sister had invited her boyfriend – Tom – along. He'd spent most of the night chatting with her brothers while the girls spent most of their time drinking and talking with Rex._

_Tom said all the right things and acted the proper way, but Cordelia just knew something was off about him. She didn't voice her opinions because she had no basis. She'd barely said two words to the man all night. At any rate, she didn't worry about it then. _

_She was worried now._

_She picked up the phone on her desk; lost in her own world of thoughts as she sat in the loud bullpen. Her tiny fingers punched the ten digits she knew by heart and she waited for the voice she longed to hear answer on the other end of the line._

_"Come on, Anna; pick up," she wished aloud. Her wish was not granted; instead, her sister's voice mail played on the other end. Sighing discontentedly, "Annalise, this is your sister calling you for the fifth time this week. I..." She didn't want to sound overbearing, but knew she had. "I miss you," she said after a few seconds. "I just want to know you're alright. Call me please, day or night. I love you. Bye."_

_She hung up the phone sadly. Something was wrong. It wasn't like her sister to not return her phone calls. An idea came to her suddenly, but she wasn't sure if she liked it. She wrestled with it before ultimately deciding to go ahead._

_Picking up the phone again, she dialed a number and waited with dread for the other end to pick up. _

_"Hello, Mother," she said with every ounce of disdain she could muster. "I'm calling about your daughter."_

The memory, six months ago to the day, faded away when something cold trickled down her face from the crown of her head. Slowly, her eyes opened, free from the blindfold, and she saw an intense stare from a pair of deep blue eyes. The man looked at her closely, a keen interest showing upon his face, but didn't speak. He stuck a needle in her arm then took two steps back from her and sat in the chair opposite her.

They both sat quietly for a moment, Cordelia shaking the water away from her eyes while concentrating internally to counteract whatever drug he pumped into her. She could no longer feel the earpiece in her right ear and her jacket was missing, leaving her wearing nothing but her black pants and black tank top. She dipped her head slightly to her right shoulder, running her chin across the strap of her tank top and felt the small thin wire that was her microphone.

The move was executed perfectly and the man who was watching her every move closely had no idea what she was checking. To him, she was just wiping away the water. Still, Cordelia knew he was waiting for the drug to take effect. Whoever he was, he didn't reek of the same fear as the other two men. In fact, he seemed just as calm as she did. He was definitely more composed and serious. Blond hair and chiseled features made him very attractive, but the lines etching across his face made him look older – much older. He was clearly burdened by something. Cordelia could recognize that look a mile away. It was the same one she wore many days.

Their silence lasted for a minute longer; each one playing the game. The blond man with the silent staring that Cordelia reciprocated expertly. Neither showed any signs of giving in while each was surprisingly impressed with the other.

The blond man was the first to break the silence. "What were you doing in the warehouse?"

Cordelia was undecided on how to answer. She could play the cynical smart ass and goad the man, but that would not get her the answers she desired and could possibly get her killed. The truth would be the safest bet.

"Searching for a missing girl," she answered, giving the blond man a half-truth.

She watched as his blue eyes softened a bit before hardening again. "What would a missing girl be doing in my warehouse?"

Smirking sarcastically, "You tell me."

The blond man returned the sentiment. "How would I do that?"

Her eyes never left his. Both pair of eyes was searching the other; searching for lies and vulnerability, searching for anything to use against the other person.

"You took my jacket while I was unconscious. I'm sure you've looked through the pockets and found my identification, credentials and the picture." The man remained silent as she expected. "I'll take your silence as confirmation. I'm also sure that you've had someone checking me out while we've been sitting here, or at least while I've been sitting here."

"You know a lot," he meant to sound condescending but sounded impressed.

"Yeah," she replied dryly. "I know that you don't smell of the same fear as, what were their names," she paused to remember. "Oh, yes, Max and Milo. I also know that if you thought I had anything to do with the explosion at the warehouse that I would be dead by now."

There was a sudden flash of anger in his blue eyes. "What makes you think I'm not going to use you as a bargaining chip against the Zacharras?"

"That would be a waste of time for two reasons. One: you've had me checked out and you know that I don't work for them. And even if I did, you certainly wouldn't be using me to bargain anything. You would kill me and then bring war down upon them to defend your territory. Two: any crime family with any type of sense would dispose of the captured person. They would make sure they're dead to erase any evidence. You, yourself, know that."

The blond man couldn't hide the intrigue in his expressive eyes. This tiny woman knew a great deal about him and the operation. It unnerved him greatly yet impressed him at the same time. He'd never known someone other than himself to be able to read someone else so clearly. To be composed and in control in the face of death.

He was about to say something when someone burst through the door. An older looking man, whose face was covered with dirt, stared at her with a lethal gaze. He looked like a rabid dog.

"Is this her?" he asked. Max had come in behind him, and glared at Cordelia. The blond man rose to his feet and stood between Sonny and Cordelia. "Jason, is she the one who set up the bombs?" Cordelia caught a glimpse of silver in Sonny's left hand. It was his gun.

"No," Jason said at the same time Max said yes. Jason glared at Max briefly before turning his attention to Sonny. "She's not. I gave her a full dose of sodium pentothal. She couldn't lie even if she wanted to. She's not the one."

Cordelia wanted to laugh at the way they spoke about her as if she wasn't in the room. She also wanted to laugh at Jason for thinking sodium pentothal would work on her. If he had done his research, he would have known that she was a prisoner of war and that it was customary for captors to use that method when interrogating. He would have been able to guess that she would have learned to resist.

"She probably knows who did set them," Sonny wondered aloud. "She probably -"

A teenager entering the room caring a laptop clutched tightly to his chest cut off his statement. His hair was incredibly disheveled, and his entire demeanor was in disarray. He looked at her in complete awe and then turned to Jason. "Stone Cold, the Jackal has unearthed some very disturbing facts about the Captured One."

Cordelia smirked. _The Captured One?_ The kid had found something about her that was disturbing. She wanted to laugh. Whatever he found was barely the surface.

The four of them left her alone in the room. Waiting patiently for their footsteps to grow silent, Cordelia spoke softly into the microphone sowed into the seam of her strap. "This is your chance to show what a great hacker you are, Rexy. That kid has information. We need to know what it is and fast."

She was sure that Rex knew her earpiece was gone so he wouldn't bother responding. The earpiece only worked one way so they wouldn't hear her. The only thing left to do was wait. Wait for Rex to find answers. Wait for the men to come back. Wait for the chance to continue her search for her sister.

She just hoped her waiting would not be in vain.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four, _The Descent_:

_It was odd – being home again; walking through the long hallways of her ancestral home. To think of the demons she left behind lurking in the shadows there as well as the skeletons in the closets. Odd being back in the home she vowed never to set foot in again._

_She could almost see the memories before her eyes. Hear the cries and laughter echoing through the halls. Could feel the pain and hear the doors slamming shut. Those sounds and feelings have echoed in her mind for the longest time._

_However, she wasn't here to confront them yet. She was here for an entirely different reason._

_She stood in the doorway of her parent's_ _dining room watching them having breakfast – wondering why she even bothered to come at all._

"_I do wish you would eat something, Delia," her father said casually before sipping his coffee again. "You need to keep up your strength."_

_She cringed slightly, but that went unnoticed by her parents. She cannot remember a time in all of her twenty-six years when her father ever displayed such caring – as minimal as it were. It made her uneasy. Made her think they only cared about her because of her ordeal in Iraq. It also disheartened her because they should care about their youngest child – the one who is still missing._

_She kicked herself mentally for letting another month go by without hearing from Annalise. She called her mother a month before and the older woman assured her everything was alright. That Annalise was probably lounging in a resort somewhere, spending her trust fund. Her mother didn't seem to care at all that her daughter could be in serious trouble._

"_Yes, especially with those hours you keep," her mother chimed in while perusing whatever document her assistant placed in front of her a few minutes ago._

_Sighing heavily, she rolled her eyes. "I didn't come here for breakfast. I came here to ask about Anna. She's been gone for two months now on a vacation that was only supposed to last for a few days." She looked between her parents and saw no change in their facial expressions. "Doesn't that strike you as odd? Doesn't it worry you that she hasn't contacted you, me, Peter or Fox?" She saw the slight change in her parent's demeanor when she mentioned her brothers._

"_Well, what do you think happened, Delia?" her father asked in a cavalier tone. He was being condescending and she hated that. She hated that their children meant nothing to them._

"_I don't know, but I intend to find out," Cordelia proclaimed._

_When she said that, her mother stopped reading the documents long enough to look up at her. Her eyes shined with a hint of anger; but they looked tired, as if she wasn't sleeping enough. Both of her parents looked older now. Gray hairs seeping through on their heads and wrinkles across their faces. The wrinkles around her mother's eyes would be gone by this afternoon, of that Cordelia was sure. Her mother – and her father to a certain extent – has an image to uphold. Images their children never fit into sadly._

"_What about your career?" she asked, her voice displaying a small hint of annoyance. "You've worked very hard to achieve your dreams, Cordelia, and you finally have. You are one of the most prestigious journalists in this country. You're in good standing with your editors at the Times and you are world renowned for your -" Cordelia watched as the words soured on her mother's tongue and her suspicions about the reasons for their caring was confirmed. "- ordeal. You have worked so hard, sweetheart. I would hate for you to throw that away because Annalise has decided to be rebellious yet again." Her mother rolled her eyes – an act unbecoming a United States Senator - and sighed heavily. Whatever brief sliver of motherly concern she previously felt faded away like a cloud of smoke. "Honestly, the things that girl has put this family through. The drugs and the -" The older woman shook her head whilst shutting her eyes tightly. Her mouth turned down in a frown of disgust._

_Cordelia couldn't believe her eyes. Or rather, couldn't believe she'd expected something more from them. She kicked herself for even considering they would act like loving parents for once. While her mother sighed again and went back to reading, her father simply sat there eating his breakfast as if they were not having a discussion at all. It rendered her speechless._

"_Anna is in trouble, Mother," Cordelia said firmly. "It's not like her to not contact me for months at a time. Something is wrong. I know it. She's in trouble."_

"_Annalise has been in and caused this family enough trouble. You know very well the trouble that she has cost your father and I in our endeavors; and she nearly cost Foxworth his seat on the city council. You and Peter have been fortunate not to have had her drugs and whoring touch you. And I refuse to allow you to put your career on hold for someone who is clearly undeserving," her mother replied snidely. "Whatever trouble has found Annalise, she will have to deal with on her own. Your father and I cannot and will not help her again. She is twenty-one years old now and it is high time that she starts acting like a sensible adult. She must pay for her mistakes and find her own way of fixing them. Honestly, that girl!"_

_Cordelia shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe this."_

"_Delia," her father interjected finally. "You have to understand that continually helping Annalise will only enable her to continue on her destructive path. Now, your mother and I love her, we do, but we cannot allow her behavior to paint a negative picture of our family."_

_Cordelia scoffed. The raspy breath of air came out of her mouth softly; a vast contradiction to the fire that raced in her veins. She stared at her parents incredulously, finally seeing them for who they were._

"_I can't believe that I came here hoping that the two of you would possibly give a damn about one of your children. I should have known better than to think that you would lift a finger to help unless it benefited you in some way! She's your daughter! Yes, she has made mistakes, we all have, but you're her parents. You should still be worried. Anything could have happened to her! Anything! She could be dead and you wouldn't care. Or who knows, maybe you would. The grieving senator is sure to garner support from constituents and that's what it's all about right, Mother?" The last word was exaggerated with disgust. "And this would be the second time you could use your position as a worried father to gain favor with the President, right, Father?"_

"_Cordelia -" her parents spoke simultaneously but she held up a hand and silenced them._

"_Shut up," she said softly. So softly that she barely heard the words herself. She had never shown them such blatant disrespect before; and could see the shocked expressions on their faces but didn't care. "She's my sister. I know in my heart – something the two of you obviously don't have – that she's in trouble and I'm going to find her."_

_She turned on her heels and started to leave. Running down the hallway to the front door, she could hear her parents close behind calling her name but didn't acknowledge them._

"_Cordelia, wait!" her father commanded and she stopped at the door with her hand on the knob. "If you do this... you're on your own. Your mother and I-"_

_She turned to face him quickly, her face set with anger. "I've been on my own since I learned how to walk. You and Mother never did a damn thing for us. You didn't raise us. You hired nannies – which you diddled, by the way - to do that until you shipped us all off to boarding school. You threw money at our problems until they went away and swept them under the rugs. You never loved us. You never cared about us until you had to. Until the primaries came around or a fucking promotion in the ranks!"_

_She turned to leave again, opening the door and stepping out when her mother spoke. "If you walk out that door and sacrifice yourself and everything you've worked hard to achieve, don't you bother coming back. And don't you dare involve your brothers and upset their lives with your foolishness."_

"_You just don't get it, do you?" Cordelia asked, once again turning to face them for one last time. "I love her. I would sacrifice anything I had to if it would save her. I know what it's like to stare death in the face and know that no one will help you, and I don't want that for Anna. If I have to give up my job at the Times, so be it. I'll get another one because I'm an excellent journalist; but I'll never get another sister. I would never forgive myself if I let this go any further. Don't worry, Senator," she addressed her mother snidely. "I won't involve Peter or Fox and I won't disrupt their lives. And when I do find Anna, you need not worry about_ _seeing either of us ever again. You'll be dead to us... like we are to you." _

_She didn't wait for them to respond. Instead, she turned her back on them and walked out of the door, closing it with a slam. She ran down the stairs to her silver Porsche at the bottom. She started the engine and roared away from the house._

_She pulled out her cell phone and hit a single button. "Rex, it's me," she said when his voice mail answered. "When you get this please call me back. I'm headed to Anna's apartment then I'll start to check leads here. You were right. Coming here was a waste of time. We have to do this on our own."_

_She exited the estate's iron gate and watched it close in the rear view mirror. The house faded away behind a cloud of dust as she sped away... never to return._

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

Cordelia sat calmly in the chair in the sealed room. Her four captors had left her alone about twenty minutes ago. A disheveled teenager (who called her the Captured One) had come in frantically with information about her on a laptop. She silently hoped that Rex had been able to hack into it and find out something useful.

She certainly owed that man a drink after this one. Hell, she doubted she would ever be able to repay him for all the things he's done for her. The way he has stood firmly by her side these past two years.

He'd been so patient and kind with her when they returned from Iraq. He'd gotten her settled into her old apartment; and even stayed with her that first night. He slept in the chair beside her bed; and even held her when she cried after awaking from a nightmare.

Cordelia knew, without a doubt, she wouldn't have survived these past two years without Rex's support. Through her failed therapy to their awkward romantic trysts (which they decided happened because they were both drunk) to helping her find her sister – she wouldn't have been able to handle any of it without him.

The door opened, jarring her thoughts, and the blue-eyed man – Jason – came into the room again. Cordelia could clearly see the change in his eyes. His intrigue with her had increased.

"What does a girl have to do to get a drink of water in this place?" she asked coyly.

Jason stared at her a moment before walking to the wet bar on the other side of the room and getting a bottle of water. He placed it in her handcuffed hands, undoing the top for her, before sitting in the chair in front of her. She drank the water hungrily.

"Just have to say," she began softly, her breath ragged and hard. "This is the nicest interrogation room I've ever been in." She looked around the room. "And I've been in quite a few."

"In Iraq?" Jason asked, proving that he did know about her capture. "I can't imagine they're as... polite about their interrogations."

"No, they're not." The corners of her mouth curved into a subtle smile. "It's not the most American-friendly country in the world right about now."

"Especially to a four-star general's journalist daughter who is in the country investigating trade secrets."

It was Cordelia's turn to be impressed with how much he knew. "Especially," she replied dryly. She eyed him curiously. "So you've figured some things out, huh?"

"Yeah," Jason admitted. "Like the fact that you're resistant to sodium pentothal."

Cordelia chuckled softly. "Sorry to put a kink in your plans, but it just doesn't have the same effect it used to."

"I guess after months of interrogation with it your body will become immune."

Anger flashed hotly in her green eyes. Her bronze skin was overtaken with a hellish red tint, as if something burned within. Jason could clearly see she was angry, but her voice was calm when she spoke. "It doesn't take months. After one week of being beaten and tortured for answers you don't have, your body grows numb. You don't feel anything... if you're lucky that is. Once they see that, they use drugs – black market drugs that aren't nearly safe as regulated drugs to find answers; but not only for that. It doesn't really make you tell the truth, it just makes you complacent." Anger dripped from every word. Her free hand clenched in a fist so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Yet, Jason wasn't afraid of what she would do; he was only saddened. "Your mind and your body are complacent and they like that when they torture you and use your body for their own sick perverse pleasure. After a week of that, your mind tries to resist and if you're lucky it will, but the memories are still burned there."

Jason wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what. She had firmly stopped all of his words in their tracks and made his heart ache at the same time. His mouth went dry as she continued to stare at him. It was as if she didn't see him sitting there anymore and instead saw the men who captured her.

"Look," she said finally, her eyes less glazed than a second ago. "I'm not the assassin who set up bombs at the cannery and I don't work for the Zacharras. I'm in this town for one reason and one reason only: to find my sister."

Jason noticed how soft her eyes became, and her facial features were more relaxed now but not set in anger. He could hear the determination in her voice, and wondered what would happen to anyone who got in her way. However, he knew that he did not want to be that man.

"She's been missing for months and was last seen in this town in that cannery. Why would I burn down my only lead? You've seen the picture. She's twenty-one years old and has no idea how dangerous this world is." Tears sprang to her eyes that she dared not let fall. To Jason's eyes, she looked helpless and determined all at the same time. "Do you have a sister? Anyone that you care about that you would die to protect. I know you're in the mob but even you all have feelings." Her voice cracked under her emotional strain; even though, her remark was condescending. "She's my sister. I'm all she has. Let me go."

Perhaps it was his own anguish over what she'd gone through or the fact that he did have a little sister he would die for, but Jason removed the cuff keys from his pocket, released her hands, and cut the ropes that tied her legs to the chair. She stood up and was finally face to face with him. His blue eyes stared deeply into hers. They couldn't quite gage each other but recognized the determination in each other's gaze. If they were to be completely honest, they would see their ends goals were the same: to protect the people they loved.

Jason lowered his eyes briefly to the hand she'd raised. She rubbed her right wrist, massaging away the pain the handcuffs caused before using said hand to punch Jason across the face. His head turned with the force and the red fist print was already rising on his skin.

He didn't look surprised since he half-expected it to happen. He didn't try evade the strike, but that didn't stop it from stinging. Deep down, he knew he deserved it. They were opposing forces and by taking her hostage, she lost valuable time in finding a new lead.

Wiping away the blood that dripped down his chin, he let her out of the room. Cordelia picked up her belongings on the table just outside the door before heading toward the front door. She made a passing glance at the teenager she saw before (who shivered with fear) before yanking the front door open.

The cool, crisp night air hit her immediately, as did the headlights of her Porsche. Rex leaned against the hood of the car with his weapon in hand, already moving to the front to meet her. In a few quick strides, she was at his side. They exchanged words before getting in the car. Cordelia put the car in reverse while staring at Jason and the kid.

"Did you get in?" she asked Rex.

"Yep," he said. "I got practically everything on the kid's hard drive. He won't notice until tomorrow when the virus takes hold and erases everything. We'll be long gone by then."

"No," Cordelia said as she began to drive in reverse down the gravel roadway. "There's something in this town that will help." She did a burn out and turned the car onto the right path before speeding away. "He wouldn't have let me go so easily if there wasn't. We need to find out what it is."

She left the safe house behind in a cloud of dust.

Jason stared after the car, his view of its lights obscured by the cloud of dust. "Did you save a copy of the picture?" he asked Spinelli. The teenager looked worried. His face was pale as if he had seen a ghost. "Good. Now we just have to find out why Cooper Barrett was seen alive inside the cannery when he is supposed to be dead."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five, _Walk Along the Path of Thy Enemies_

The penthouse was quiet when Jason arrived home - a little too quiet. He immediately thought something was wrong when he opened the door and his stepson Cameron didn't rush to greet him, until he remembered that the boys were with their great-grandmother Audrey while his wife Elizabeth did a shift at the hospital.

Closing the door, he discarded his leather jacket in the closet and placed his weapon in the lockbox upon the top shelf before trudging over to the couch and collapsing on it exhausted. He rested for a moment, resisting the urge to call and have more guards placed on his wife at the hospital and Audrey's home. The bombing of the cannery was only the beginning of what would be a bloody and deadly battle between two equally powerful mob families and he did not want his family to be in any more danger than they currently were.

He pulled out his cell phone and made the call, all the while with Elizabeth's voice in the back of his mind. She would be very unhappy with the extra security, but Jason knew he could make her understand - he always did. That is what their relationship had boiled down to since their marriage began. Elizabeth didn't want to be married - even as much as she loved him. She did not want the boys involved in his lifestyle but Jason convinced her it was in her best interest since his enemies knew Jake was his son. _If we're married, I can protect you…_ Elizabeth didn't want to move into the penthouse; she wanted to stay in the home she made for herself and the boys since her divorce with Lucky, but Jason convinced her it was safer. _The penthouse has protection and so does the building. It's safer._ When Elizabeth wanted to go back to nursing full-time at the hospital, Jason convinced her otherwise. _It would be harder to guard you at the hospital. Anyone has admittance_. Therefore, she went back part-time instead, mainly at night when the hospital was not as busy and her bodyguards could stand around and watch her without making the other staff and patients nervous.

That is what he did now. He convinced his wife - and himself - of his lies and little else. And he knew his wife hated him for it. Hated him for the man he has become, and for turning her into someone she did not want to be. She hated him, and honestly, he did as well, for making her children grow up in a virtual glass cage with little to no freedom at all.

Jason lived with her hate. He lived with the silence lingering between them when together in the same room, and the walls that had built up around their hearts. He lived through her dalliance with a doctor at the hospital - Patrick Drake - and through her unabashed contempt for the grievances he caused her. It was what he felt he deserved. The light has been extinguished in her blue eyes, and for that, he would never forgive himself.

He closed his eyes, shouting down his demons, and tried to rest after his trying evening. The interrogation of that reporter - _Cordelia_ (he made a point to remember her name) - had been more than he expected. The tiny woman (she couldn't have been more than five feet seven) had seen and done remarkable things. Her strength and determination were fierce and admirable. _She_ was fierce and he _did_ admire her. She was willing to risk all for someone she loved and he could relate whole-heartedly.

The phone in his hand gave a shrill ring and jarred him awake. He hoped, and half-expected, for Spinelli to ramble on when he answered, but it wasn't his friend's voice that came through the line.

"Mr. Morgan," Trevor Lansing's voice was as repulsive as his actual presence. "What an unfortunate -"

"I have nothing to say to you, Trevor," Jason cut off his gloating before it even began. "Except, 'watch your back'," he warned the older rival and hung up the phone.

He tossed the phone to the other side of the couch and resisted the urge to hit something. Trevor Lansing, as well as his son, knew the right buttons to push to provoke his anger, but he couldn't give in to temptation. Sonny was the one who usually went flying off the handle, and Jason couldn't afford to do the same.

The phone rang again, but this time instead of Spinelli, it was Elizabeth. She never called. Never.

"What's wrong?" he asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Sonny's been brought in with a gunshot wound," she told him, and Jason couldn't help notice the hint of disdain in her voice. She didn't even try to hide it anymore.

The door swung open and Spinelli stood there with a bewildered look crossing his pale face. Jason held up a hand to stop him from speaking.

"You should get down here straight away," Elizabeth said. "It's not life threatening but…" she didn't finish the statement, didn't really have to. If Sonny were in the hospital, he would have orders for Jason to carry out. His wife said nothing else and Jason heard the dial tone a few seconds later.

"Stone Cold," Spinelli's voice was questioning while verging on hysterical.

"Sonny's been shot," Jason said while moving to the closet to get his jacket and gun.

The younger man bit his lip in panicked fear. "The denizens of darkness have made a move against Mr. Corinthos-Sir?"

"Looks that way," Jason said. "Did you find out anything about Coop?"

"No," Spinelli answered with downcast eyes. "The Jackal has been fruitless in his search for information regarding the Undead One."

They both stepped outside the door.

"Keep trying," Jason said simply.

"Undoubtedly, Stone Cold," Spinelli replied. He bit his lip. "But…" Jason turned an intent gaze his way. Spinelli's eyes shifted briefly. "The denizen of darkness had a secret shipment stored in the cannery about a month ago. Around the same time the Ravishing Reporter's sister was seen in said cannery." Jason hitched a brow in thought but did not speak. "Do you think the sister is in cohorts with the dastardly denizens?" Spinelli bit his lip again in consideration. "That could explain her presence there, but does not explain Copper Barrett's."

"No," Jason answered. "I don't think she's working for them, but we won't rule it out." He stepped onto the elevator. "Keep looking."

The doors closed soundlessly.

Jason hopped on his motorcycle when he reached the garage. He sped away from the building, shouting down the demons within, as he raced toward General Hospital.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cordelia stepped lightly among the charred remains of the cannery. Her highly trained eyes searching for anything that could be salvaged; however, her other senses were overwhelmed. Anger and sadness mixed with her unfettering determination. She could not give up now, not when she has come this far.

"Find anything?" Rex asked when he made his way to her side once again. His blue eyes searched her face carefully, trying to get a feel for her mood.

"Nothing but ashes," Cordelia said in quiet tones. She kicked a piece of… something to the side. "Shit!" she exclaimed loudly. "We were here; we could have found something, and those… bastards just had to try and kill each other tonight!" She ran a strong hand through her dark locks and brought it to rest against the back of her neck. She looked up into Rex's eyes, desperately searching for reassurance.

His hand was on her shoulder in an instant; holding her steady and giving her the strength she needed. "We'll look somewhere else. We have enough from the kid's laptop to go on. We'll start with the person who last owned this place and go from there." He forced her to look in his eyes. "We won't stop until Annalise is safe."

Cordelia nodded, her eyes shut tightly, before pulling him into a tight embrace. She honestly didn't know what she would do without Rex. "Okay," she whispered and pulled away from him. "Think like a journalist," she muttered to herself; shutting down the emotional part of her and began to focus on the facts.

"Excuse me," a uniformed officer walked quickly toward them and Cordelia showed her press credentials. "You can't be in here. The building is structurally unsafe." He looked between the two friends. "You're going to have to come with me."

Though reluctant to leave, Cordelia had no choice but to follow Rex and a uniformed officer out. Once outside again, she was bombarded with the flashing lights of the news camera crews. People clamored along the perimeter.

"Cordelia Roberts?" a well-dressed man in a casual suit approached them.

"That's me!" Cordelia yelled to him while the helicopter flew overhead.

"I'm Commissioner Mac Scorpio." He shuffled them along to a quieter area. "I'm not used to answering questions from the press, but your case… compelled me." Mac continued. He could understand the young woman's desire. He had two daughters around the age of her younger sister and he would certainly do anything in his power to get them back safely.

Cordelia nodded sagely and pulled the picture she carried out of her jacket. She showed it to Mac. "The last time anyone saw my sister, she was in that cannery with this man. I traced this photo back to this town. It was taken by one of your officers."

"Lucas Spencer," Mac answered. "Lucky. He's been watching that cannery for months on suspicion of drug trafficking." Mac looked closer at the picture; his expression one of utter confusion.

Not drugs. Not again. _Anna… _"Can I speak with him?"

Mac looked to the woman and nodded but his attention was clearly elsewhere. "Yes, but you'll have to wait until he's out of surgery. He took a bullet to the shoulder tonight during a gun battle between two mob families."

"Sir?" Rex called the man's attention. "You keep looking at the picture as if you see something you recognize. Anything you can tell us? Have you seen either of them before?"

Mac looked at the picture again. "Yeah," he answered with a hint of uncertainty. "Yes. I remember seeing the girl in General Hospital a few weeks ago when my youngest daughter had been admitted." He left out the part about her being nearly strangled to death. "She was screaming pretty loudly. One of the nurses said she was being de-toxed." Cordelia closed her eyes briefly. It was drugs again… "And the man -"

"His name is Tom Courtland," Cordelia told him.

Mac's brow creased in confusion. "No… I'm pretty sure that's Cooper Barrett."

"What?" Cordelia replied, clearly having heard the name before. Rex looked at her face and was certain that she had.

"He dated my oldest daughter and was one of my police cadets for a while. His name is Cooper Barrett."

It was obvious that Cordelia couldn't speak. Her eyes simply stared ahead. She wasn't even looking at Mac any longer. Instead, Rex knew, she was seeing her past playing in her mind. "Anything you can tell us about him?" Rex asked.

"He was in Iraq for a while. A good cadet until I learned he was working for Sonny Corinthos - he's one of the local mobsters," Mac revealed and neither Rex nor Cordelia made mention of seeing the mobster earlier in the evening.

"Anything else?" Rex asked.

"Yeah… he's dead. Cooper Barrett was killed by a serial killer three months ago."

"Thank you," Cordelia said, finally. "For your help, Commissioner."

"If I can do anything else…" Mac said and left the sentence unfinished. He felt no need to finish it at all. The two friends understood.

"Let's head to the hospital," Cordelia said, her voice even and quiet. Too quiet for Rex's liking. She took off at a quick pace heading for the car and Rex nearly had to run to catch up with her.

When they reached the car and Cordelia pulled off at a high speed, Rex felt comfortable enough to ask. "What was that about back there?" He pulled out his computer to check the name Cooper Barrett against the FBI database. "The man said Cooper Barrett and you went silent. And not just 'Cordi-silent' either. This was 'deadly-silent'…" he hesitated. "'Iraq-silent'." He looked over at her curiously, trying to gage her reaction. She still looked distracted but no more than usual when he mentioned Iraq. "What's going on?"

Cordelia was silent for a long while. So long, that Rex thought she wasn't going to answer him. Finally, she sighed and said, "Tom - this man - whoever he is… cannot be Cooper Barrett. I knew Cooper," she looked over at him briefly, letting him see the vulnerability in her eyes. "In Iraq…" she revealed and the stoic gaze she was famous for adorned her pretty face. She stared straight ahead to the road. "He was one of the captives who died in Iraq. One of the ones I killed."

Rex didn't know what to say after that. Nothing he could say would have made any difference to her. He had seen the blood and carnage at the captivity site and knew that she would carry those images with her for the rest of her life. He wouldn't dare tell her what she'd seen with her own eyes.

A single tear slipped down her cheek and she quietly wiped it away, blinking back the others that dared fall. He couldn't console her now, not when she was being flooded with memories and chased by her own demons. He would wait until she was ready to talk. But for right now… he would do his job, keep his promise, and help her find a new lead in finding her missing sister.

Rex typed away furiously on the computer while Cordelia, fighting the demons within, drove speedily toward General Hospital.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six, _In the Garden of Good and Evil_

Stepping into the General Hospital emergency room, Jason locked eyes with the bodyguard's posted outside a certain curtained area. He nodded to them and saw his wife standing at the nurse's station.

"Elizabeth?" Jason was saying as he walked towards the nurse's station in the middle of the floor. The brunette lifted her head to greet her estranged husband, her eyes never quite softening. "How is he?"

"Stable," her voice wasn't soft either. "Kate is with him," she said without emotion. Jason knew Elizabeth hated Sonny almost as much as she hated him, and she could not understand what Kate saw in the mobster. "He was hit in the shoulder; the bullet went clean through." Something over Jason's shoulder caught her eyes. Jason didn't need to turn around to know Patrick was there. "He'll probably be released tomorrow."

Jason nodded. His blue orbs took on an entirely different expression. His features grew softer right before Elizabeth's eyes, and she might have fallen for it once upon a time - not anymore. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," her voice was clipped. "I saw the extra security about two minutes after I called you. I'm sure the boys have some as well," she continued, her tone resigned.

"It's safer that way," Jason said, he almost whispered it.

Elizabeth's eyes turned as hard as stone. The anger she'd been trying to keep in check displayed on her face briefly, and Jason wished immediately that he hadn't said the words. She frowned, "Don't kid yourself, Jason. It's never safe."

She stepped out of the nurse's station with a file in hand and moved to step around him. Jason's hand shot out and grabbed her wrists gently yet firmly. They didn't turn to face each other. Couldn't bear to look at one another. "I'm doing the best I can."

Elizabeth harshly yanked her arm away from his grip and turned to meet his gaze furiously. "Just because you say it… doesn't make it true," she told him. "You should go see him… he _needs_ you."

Turning on her heels, Elizabeth walked away from him.

Jason watched her walk up to Patrick and then both of them disappeared down the hall. He sighed and ran a hand through his dirty blond hair, feeling the eyes of her co-workers watching him expectantly, wondering if they all knew that his wife was cheating on him.

With a shake of his head, he walked into Sonny's make-shift room. Kate Howard, the fashion magazine mogul looked over to him, her hand wrapped tightly around Sonny's. Her mouth twitched up into a nervous half-smile. Jason knew she wasn't happy he was there.

Jason didn't say anything, instead he waited for the other occupants to speak.

"I was coming from seeing Kate at her office when…" Sonny gestured to his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked Kate while stepping closer to the bed. He could see the woman was afraid and was probably still in full shock. From this angle, he could see she was still wearing the clothes covered with Sonny's blood.

Kate nodded; her usually well coiffed head disheveled. Her movements were choppy and rigid instead of fluid as they usually were. Her cheeks were wet with tears. "I'm fine," her voice indicated otherwise.

"Maybe you should be checked out just in case?" Jason questioned.

In response, Kate held Sonny's hand tighter. She obviously didn't want to let him go and Jason was unclear if it were for Sonny's benefit or her own. He glanced to Sonny who agreed with his eyes while trying to console Kate with his words.

Jason stepped backwards to look outside the curtains. He grabbed Max's attention. Both men stepped inside the area.

"Max," Sonny voiced sounded slurred to Jason. He figured it was due to the medication and realized they didn't have a lot of time. "would you take Kate to get checked out, please?" he asked, surprisingly polite to his employee.

"Sure, boss," Max agreed and stepped behind Kate.

"It's okay," Sonny said to Kate in low tones when Max gripped her firmly but gently around the shoulders. "I'll be right here, I promise. It'll be alright."

He kissed her fingers, so very white at the knuckles from holding his so tightly, and pried her fingers loose so she could walk with Max. They left the room silently, Kate having trouble gaining her bearings, and Milo closed the curtain with a small swish.

Jason waited until the curtain was closed again - as if that would muffle the sound any easier - before sitting in the seat Kate previously occupied.

"She's in shock," Sonny said. Jason looked him over curiously. For having survived death twice tonight, Sonny didn't look any worse for the wear. "I put extra guards on the Carly and the boys as well as Alexis and the girls but we're going to have to think of something else," Sonny groaned when he tried to move. "I don't want anything… happening to them."

"What happened?" Jason asked, his voice even and without emotion.

Sonny shook his head lightly. His dark coal eyes stared straight ahead toward Jason, but were not focused on the other man. Sonny seemed to be looking through Jason - past him - and seeing something that only he could see.

"We were leaving the office and about to get in the car when this other car sped up beside us and opened fire. I barely had time to think before dragging Kate to the ground. I didn't realize I was hit until it was all over." The mobster closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillow. He sighed heavily, but not with pain. "Francis is dead, Jason."

Whatever emotion Jason was feeling at that moment, he kept in check behind a steel veneer. Francis had only been back to working for him and Sonny a week. Three months ago, his wife had a baby… a son… Now they both were without him.

Sonny opened his eyes, but he didn't look at Jason. Jason almost thought Sonny didn't _want_ to look at him. Like he was afraid of seeing something in Jason's gaze. Jason understood clearly how that felt. He almost couldn't bring himself to look at Elizabeth at times, afraid to see what he'd done to her life. Afraid to see the monster he was, reflected back at him in her cerulean orbs. Seeing yourself hated in someone's gaze was hard to bear.

Long seconds clipped by before either man spoke again. Sonny's medication was obviously working because his jaw and brow relaxed. His clenched fist eased as well, but his eyes, his dark and mysterious eyes, held murderous rage.

"Did you get anything out of that reporter?" the mobster asked, his voice echoing the look in his eyes.

Jason made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. "She didn't set the bombs, Sonny," he told his boss. "She doesn't work for the Zacharras either."

"She told you that?" Sonny's eyes held as much skepticism as his voice.

"Yes," he answered honestly. "And I had Spinelli check her out… thoroughly," Jason locked eyes with Sonny, showing just how serious he was. "She was clean." Sonny nodded sagely. He may not always understand Spinelli - and who could with the way the kid butchered the language - but he was a damn good tech and if his search came up clean… "Besides, she has the backing of a hard-hitting FBI agent, a PI and she's the daughter of a general in the army and a senator."

Sonny let out a whistle. "Quite the arsenal. What's she doing in town?"

"Looking for her sister," Jason told him and pulled out the copy of the photo Spinelli had given him.

Sonny let out a shaky breath. "Is that?"

"Cooper Barrett," Jason answered. "Yes. The picture was taken a month ago in the cannery."

"But," Sonny looked confused. "He's dead." He looked up into Jason's expressionless face. "You saw his body…"

"I saw _a_ body," Jason said. "There was so much commotion in the room and Maxie was hysterical. I couldn't get a close enough look to be certain." He reached out and took the photo back.

"Okay…" Sonny shivered slightly, shaking off the unclean feelings. "I need you to send a message to the Zacharras." Jason didn't voice his opinion just yet. "Trevor Lansing has lived long enough."

Jason wasn't one to disagree. He hated Trevor just as much as he hated his son Ric, but… "Sonny," Jason voice was even. "are you sure it was the Zacharras?"

Sonny flashed his enforcer a confused look. "Who else could it be?"

"I don't know," Jason replied, realizing for the first time just how true the words were. "I don't know. After tonight… after this," he held up the picture, "I just don't know. I know that we can't afford an all-out war."

Sonny's coal eyes flashed anger. Not necessarily directed at Jason, but at the situation. "They need to be dealt with," he said in that menacing voice. "They tried - _twice _- to kill me tonight." Jason wasn't sure if it were the medication or the fact that he was injured that kept Sonny from screaming with rage, but he was thankful. "Something has to be done."

"And I'll do it," Jason said. "But I won't run the risk of bringing down a war on us that we can't handle."

"They shot at me, Jason! At Kate! At the damn cops, too! Lucky Spencer was shot in the shoulder too by these bastards!" He yelled, but not as loudly as he would have if they had been at Greystone. The news that Lucky was shot was a surprise to Jason. As far as he knew, no cops had been on the scene until after the shooting. "Look," Sonny looked exhausted now. "I don't care what you do… but somebody has to answer for this… tonight."

Jason watched as his friend's head hit the pillow and his mouth stopped moving. Sonny was asleep now… for the night at least, Jason hoped. He rose from the chair and stepped outside the curtain, closing it behind him before addressing Milo.

"Sonny's sleeping now," he told the young bodyguard. "If he wakes up - which I doubt he will - tell him I went to take care of it." Milo nodded at the instructions and Jason started to trot off but turn on his heel and headed back. "You were at the office with Sonny, right?" Milo nodded. "Was Lucky Spencer there when you arrived?"

"Yeah, we walked in on him and his sister arguing in the reception area."

"Any idea what the argument was about?"

"Johnny Zacharra," Milo answered and confirmed Jason theory: this wasn't meant for Sonny. He just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Alright, thanks," Jason said and headed off to find Lucky's room and to hopefully find answers.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_The hot desert sun beat down upon her mercilessly. Cordelia wished she could come out of her protective gear but she knew the soldiers she was traveling with wouldn't allow that. They would soon be passing through treacherous territory and could not run the risk of exposing their civilian convoy._

_She'd been in the country all of two days when the unit she was traveling with received the all clear for them to head on. She understood the waiting game even if she was a little anxious to get to Baghdad. Her story on the current regime and underhanded trade secrets would just have to wait and fester in her mind._

_She pulled out a camera, and took a picture of the rundown ruined mansion they were staying in. This country held such rich history and culture. It was fascinating and breathtaking at the same being overwhelming and frightening._

"_Makes you wonder what kind of royalty lived there once upon a time," said a voice behind her. Cordelia turned to see a young uniformed soldier standing behind her. His green eyes contrasted with the paleness of his skin. His smile was wide and his eyes held wonder as he marveled up at the building._

"_I'm sure it holds some mystery," Cordelia agreed, but said nothing more as she went about snapping pictures._

"_You're Cordelia Roberts," the man said after a moment. He turned from looking at the building to looking at her._

"_That's me," she replied, sneaking glances his way, but not being obvious with it._

"_You wrote the articles detailing the abuse of the Abu Ghraib prisoners for the _Times_."_

_An alarm sounded in her mind. The article her was talking about did not put a positive light of the American soldiers. She couldn't afford to invoke the wrath of the men who were protecting and leading her team. "Listen," she began to say but the man promptly cut off her statement._

"_Don't bother. I liked it," he said, clearly taking her by surprise. "Not everyone did, but I understand why you did it. You have a job to tell the truth to the American people. I appreciate you candor,"_

"_Thank... you," Cordelia said slowly, unsure of where to go from here. The idea to walk away entered her mind, but she didn't want to be rude. "Why don't you and I keep that between us? I'm not sure how your comrades would take it."_

"_Your secret is safe with me," he said and gave her that wide smile again._

_She found herself smiling back at him, seeing just how handsome he was underneath all that gear. "Well, you know so much about me... it's only fair I know something about you," she flirted with him, giving him soft eyes and a charming smile._

_The man laughed sheepishly. "Like what?"_

"_You can start with your name."_

"_Sorry. Cooper Barrett," he said, extending his hand._

_Cordelia shook it slowly. "Any relation to Ambassador Harlan Barrett?" Her voice and eyebrows rose._

"_He's my father," he revealed, and at her expression, "Please, don't hold it against me."_

_She thought of who her parents were and smiled. She wanted to tell him, but thought the better of it. She also wanted to tell him not to be so revealing with his familial affiliations in this part of the world, but that would partially reveal the real reason she was in this country. She needed to know how the secrets were filtered to the Iraqi army and government, and she couldn't run the risk of tipping anyone off... or making enemies._

_She released his hand but the smile never faded from her face. "I won't."_

_Their convoy left the area five minutes later for the three-hour drive to Baghdad._

_They never made it to their destination._

Cordelia, Rex and John McBain stepped off the elevator in the General Hospital emergency room. All three seasoned war veterans immediately noticed the guards in the room. Two of whom they recognized. Max and Milo looked at Cordelia with anger flashing on their faces. They looked as though they wanted to harm her, and she figured they probably did. It was obvious they didn't know their boss had released her and she didn't want any trouble – no more than they had already provided anyway. She moved her jacket to the side, just a bit, and revealed her gun in her shoulder holster. They didn't have the opportunity to surprise her as they did earlier... and she would use her weapon if she had to. So would the two men standing next to her.

She let the jacket slide to a close when a nurse walked upon them. Max and Milo stay their hands as well.

"Excuse me," Cordelia grabbed the petite brunette's attention. "I'm looking for Detective Lucas Spencer's room."

Elizabeth looked the pretty woman up and down. An action not completely lost on Cordelia. "I'm sorry, but only immediate family can see him."

"It's official police business, Nurse Webber," Epiphany Johnson said from the nurse's desk. "Commissioner Scorpio just gave the okay."

Elizabeth looked back to the trio and nodded, stepping out of the way. "He's in room E102," she said, and not at all happily.

"Thank you," Cordelia said to her, not letting the woman's attitude bother her. She looked to John and Rex briefly before heading off down the corridor to find the room. John called in two uniformed officers before heading off behind her while Rex began to ask Elizabeth and Epiphany questions.

Rounding the corner, Cordelia felt him before she saw him. After being a prisoner for many months (and her training before that), she learned to anticipate everything. She learned to see and hear, not only with her eyes and with her ears, but also with her entire being... and she was being watched... closely.

She didn't let on that she knew he was behind her. She just kept walking and looking for the room the nurse told her... waiting for him to get close enough. Close enough to...

He reached for her shoulder and she countered him easily. Grabbing his wrist, she pressed one of the pressure points she'd learned from her training, and her with her forearm pressing heavily against his throat, she backed him up against the opposite wall.

"Mr. Morgan," Cordelia said, almost purred, revealing she knew his name. "That punch to the jaw wasn't enough of a clue that the next time we met, I wouldn't be so pleasant?" She pressed harder against his windpipe to illustrate her point.

Jason's free hand clawed at her forearm frantically. He had no idea that, as tiny as she was, that she could overpower him. He grabbed her wrist after some struggling and pushed her away. She slipped backwards a bit but didn't land on the opposite wall. Her hand reached for her gun and she aimed it at him just as he aimed his at her.

Their raspy breaths were the only thing heard in the hallway for a long moment. Both of their chests heaved with adrenaline, but their hands didn't flinch. They were both highly trained and it showed.

"I'm not here for you," Jason told her, making sure his voice was even and low.

"Isn't killing a cop an automatic jail sentence?" Cordelia questioned.

"I'm not here to kill Lucky," Jason made it a point to say the man's name. "But I think someone else is."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because there's no guard at his door," he answered her first question. "And because I know the man who was with your sister," he said and lowered his gun, proving he really wasn't trying to harm her. "He used to work for me."

He stepped away from the wall to stand directly in her line of fire, and stared at her with intense blue eyes.

"Trust me," he said, pressing his chest against the barrel of her gun. "Something is terribly wrong here, and I want to find out what it is just as much as you do."

Cordelia didn't know why, or at the very least couldn't understand why, but she believed him. Maybe it was the fact that his body pressed against her weapon, or the fact that he looked nervous but she believed him.

Lowering her weapon, "Tell me about this man," she said, but before she could say anything else, or before Jason could reply, they heard a noise coming from the room. The sounds of struggle and a muffled cry triggered them both and they entered the room with their guns drawn.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven, _Unforeseen_

_The world changed in an instant. The constant roaring of the collective convoy engines had ceased and given way to explosions that rang loudly in the air. Laughter, chatter and a calm peace had given way to screams of agony as the second explosion pierced the air. The world shifted upon its axis, sending her and her comrade tumbling with no gravity to cling to._

_Fire crackled off to the side of Cordelia's broken body lying on the burned ground. The smell of burning rubber, metal, and skin wafted through the air. The ground rumbled and shook with ferocity as another of their convoy has hit and turned over on its side._

_Cordelia opened her eyes, face down on the dirt, and saw two of her team dead against the side of their truck. She immediately felt sick in her stomach at the sight, and the blood from her head wound dripped slowly into her eyes. _

_The screams of agony were growing silent against the chaos that was building around her. Triumphant yelling and the thunderous roar of combat boots stomping the ground drowned out almost every other sound. Cordelia knew what was going on now; it had all become clear._

_She pushed herself up upon her arms and tried to stand, but her right leg was shattered. She crumpled back down to the ground with a painful sob. The yelling insurgent were coming closer. She drew herself up on her hands and tried to pull herself away. There was no brush in this area, no rocks to hide behind, but still she moved. She moved as hard and as fast as she could._

"_Cordelia!" she heard a yell from far out in front of her. _

_She raised her head to see Cooper running toward her. His face bloodied from wounds he sustained, and he held onto his side with a gaping wound peeking from underneath his uniform. Two of her other team members were running away behind him, headed back the way the convoy came, when two insurgents stopped them. A third insurgent was running toward Cooper._

"_Cooper!" Cordelia yelled hoarsely. She didn't get a chance to say anything else as a shot rang out, striking Cooper in the shoulder. He fell to the ground in agony, yelling and cursing. Cordelia moved as close as she could to him, pleading with the insurgent in his native tongue. Please, don't kill us, she said, please…_

_She heard the man respond derisively before the end of his weapon slammed into her face, and knocked her unconscious._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There was a certain sense of surrealism in the moment Cordelia currently found herself. Irony would probably be the better word. If someone had told her three hours ago, that a mob enforcer in a quiet town such as this would have kidnapped her, she wouldn't have believed them. If someone had told her that said mob enforcer would have shown an uncharacteristic display of heart by letting her go, she would have laughed. If someone had told her that she would – _uncharacteristically_ - begin to trust said mob enforcer, she would have thought they were crazy.

Yet, here she was, wrestling one man away from an injured police officer while the man she should not trust helped.

She pushed the armed man back away from the man she assumed was Lucky Spencer and covered Lucky with her body, while she and Jason trained their guns on the intruder. Suddenly, the man stopped dead in his tracks. Cordelia moved her head slightly to see John standing behind him, the barrel of his gun pressed to the back of the man's head.

"That's three guns to your itty bitty knife," John began. The _itty bitty knife,_ in this case having a serrated blade and being at least a foot long, could have seriously done anyone of them some serious harm. "Do you really want to take those odds?" John posed, but it really wasn't a question.

The man obviously wasn't stupid because he dropped the knife. Jason moved to pick it up, while John radioed for help. Cordelia moved away from Lucky, giving him a small smile, and helped him to his feet. "Are you alright?" she asked him once he settled on the bed. She stepped back to Jason's side, fending off looks from John while the uniformed officers and the commissioner filled the room.

Lucky nodded, "Yes," he replied. The other officers took the would-be assassin out in handcuffs. "I'm okay. Thank you." He looked between the two people he'd never met before, before his eyes landed on Mac. "What's going on?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that." John answered, and moved closer to Cordelia, standing between her and Jason.

"This is John McBain, FBI and Cordelia Roberts, a TIMES journalist," Mac introduced. "They're here investigating a possible kidnapping." His eyes landed on Jason. "What are you doing here, Morgan?"

"Mr. Morgan is helping me with the case," Cordelia answered, and again, fended off a look from John. She continued speaking without even looking at her longtime friend. She would answer him later; right now, she wanted answers. "The man you've identified as Cooper Barrett worked for him prior to his," she couldn't say the word, "death. He could have vital information."

"That could come at a price, Ms. Roberts," Mac said, still eyeing Jason suspiciously. "Neither Jason Morgan, nor his employer Sonny Corinthos, runs in the most honest of circles."

"That's true," Cordelia agreed. "But with all due respect, Commissioner, I've dealt with things far worse than mob affiliations and have survived." Jason and John shared a respective glance. "Mr. Morgan has been gracious enough to offer his help. I'm not going to turn it down."

"Very well," Mac conceded. He looked between all the faces in the room. "I'm going to head downtown with your attacker and see what I can find out. You get well soon." With that, and one last glance to Jason, Mac left the room.

Once the door closed, Cordelia stepped from beside John to the side of the bed. "This picture was traced back to the PCPD. You're logged as the only person to have used the camera it came from."

"That was supposed to be in a confidential file. It was an undercover operation," Lucky retorted sternly. He hated the thought that his case was exposed. "How the hell did you get it?"

Rex's triumphant face fleeted through her mind. The PI had cracked the PCPD databanks in record time after one of their file pictures matched the picture of Annalise he'd previously uploaded to the FBI's missing persons list. Cordelia, however, kept that to herself when she answered.

"That's not important," she said. "Your case, nor your identity, has been compromised. I need your help." Her voice was soft and a contradiction to the strong woman who shielded his body with her own a few minutes ago. Lucky couldn't help, as he looked up into her eyes, but see why Jason had offered his help. She was charmingly captivating. "The woman in the picture is my sister. She's been missing for months now without a trace." This caused Lucky to look back at the picture. "I'm aware that the man in the picture has been identified as Cooper Barrett, but I know him as Tom Courtland. I know that this person was a cadet at the police department and working for Sonny Corinthos. What I don't know… is why he was in that warehouse and in this town. Is there anything… anything you can tell me?"

Lucky shook his head. Not to signify an answer, but to show how confused he was about this entire situation. "I don't even know where to begin, I'm afraid."

"Start with how long you've known Cooper was alive," Jason said, and because he'd been so quiet this whole time, his voice startled Cordelia. She shared an uneasy glance with him.

"Then move on to how long you were watching the warehouse and why," John added on.

Lucky couldn't help but feel like he was sitting in an interrogation room instead of a hospital room. "The PCPD received an anonymous call regarding to some type of illegal trafficking taking place through the warehouse. I went to check it out and found nothing. It had just changed ownership from Skye Quartermaine to Ric Lansing."

"Anthony Zacharra's attorney?" Cordelia asked. She and Jason shared another look. "Know your enemy," she said in response to the question in his blue eyes.

"Yeah. I didn't find anything out of the ordinary in the cannery portion, but when I checked the back there were large metal crates."

"The kind weapons come in?" John asked.

"No," Lucky shook his head. "The large kind. The kind cars or other large items can be transported in."

"How many were there?"

"Three," Lucky sighed. "I thought that was odd, so I came back after nightfall and that's when I took the picture. Your sister wasn't the only woman there that night."

"What do you mean?"

"There were about fifteen to twenty other woman in the warehouse that night. I took pictures of them all. I didn't know what to make of it. The next day, the woman and the crates were gone."

Cordelia took the picture from his hands and moved away. John followed closely behind, while Jason moved closer to the bed. He and Lucky shared an uneasy alliance. They'd been friends once upon a time, despite the fact that they worked on opposite sides of the law. The love of Elizabeth proved to be the only unbreakable – and yet unspoken – bond between the two men.

"Did you see who shot you?" Jason asked.

"No," Lucky answered. "But I can venture a guess as to who it was."

"It wasn't us," Jason responded. "We were…" he trailed off. The explosion at the warehouse had been all over the news. His men were so busy locking down their territory they didn't have time to retaliate against anyone.

"I know that. I heard about the explosion. I meant the Zacharras."

"Why would the Zacharras try to kill you?" Cordelia asked, her moment of silent recourse over.

"Because I arrested Johnny Zacharra last night on suspicion of illegal trafficking."

"So you think that this was their way of retaliating? No exactly a smart thing to do?"

"Anthony Zacharra is a dangerous and psychotic bastard. I think my shooting and the explosion at the warehouse are connected."

"In what way?" Jason and John asked together.

"I think Anthony Zacharra was trying to clean house tonight." Lucky looked between the three of them.

"What about the explosion?" Jason asked. "Claudia was going to meet with Sonny in the warehouse."

"Claudia is just as much a threat as Sonny when it comes to controlling the organization. The organization that Anthony wants to hand over to Johnny some day." Lucky shook his head.

"The explosion wasn't a hit for anyone," Cordelia said, catching on to Lucky train of thought. "It was a way to cover up whatever went on in that warehouse and both attempts on your life was a way to silence the only witness to it."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight, _Uneasy Alliance_:

Night for Cordelia was the worst. Every second she spent awake not knowing whether her sister was alive or dead was torturous; but night was something entirely different, and entirely worse for a myriad of reasons. When all of this began, Cordelia promised herself that she would not rest until she brought her sister home. Forgoing the knowledge that her body needed rest, or rather simply, not caring. If she could, she would search for Annalise from sun-up to sun-down, only resting when her body reached the point of exhaustion.

Besides the feelings of guilt for sleeping in a warm bed, with Rex always a few steps away in the next – and John perhaps in the next room – while her sister was facing god-knew-what in god-knew-where, the night terrors that she just could not repress always manifested themselves in her dreams. Dreams that were innocent memories took on an entirely different form in her subconscious. Memories of rare family moments between her, her siblings, and their parents became distorted spectacles that often roused her in a cold sweat.

Yet, still, the dreams about her capture were always the worst. Always.

_The blindfold across her eyes was too tight. The knot pressed tightly against the back of her head, while the doubly folded cloth pressed against her closed eyelids. She didn't know where she was anymore; the stinging thump in her head, a result of the edge of a gun slamming into her head, was unbearable. Her hands and limbs were bound together tightly, and as far as she could tell, she was sitting on a cold dirt floor, leaning against the body of another captive. The room was quiet save for the unmistakable sobs of her fellow captives. _

"_Cordelia," her name was whispered from the person sitting next to her._

_Instinctively, she turned her head to where the sound came from. "Cooper?" She felt him tugging at the rope that tied his hands. She couldn't explain why a sense of relief flooded her. Perhaps it was knowing that he was still alive. She'd been so afraid that his wounds would have killed him. "Cooper…" she said his name again, unable to think of anything else to say. Unable to voice how afraid she was of whatever was to come. She reached for his hand and held it tightly when the door to the front of them was pushed open and the thunder of combat boots shook the very ground._

"Cordi!" Rex's hands firmly planted on her shoulder were like a port in the storm; like a lifeline pulling her from the murky depths. Cordelia awakened with a start, and jumped up. She'd heard the end of her scream and wondered just how many people on this floor she'd awakened with her nightmares. "It's okay," Rex began to say, his dirty blonde hair a disheveled mess.

It took her a moment to remember what was happening again. The nightmare still clung tightly to her, and she was very glad to have Rex there. She touched his hand gently with hers, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall, and felt the last bit of her nightmare falling away from her. Even with the minimal light cascading through the open window, Cordelia could see the concern on Rex's face. It was times like these that she wished their romantic entanglement would reappear. She would take his scantily clad body and remove the boxer he wore – the only piece of clothing he wore now – and use his body to forget the memories that haunted her. Even as desirable as he was, and knowing how incredible he is in bed, Cordelia could not bring herself to use him in such a way. Rex had been a true and dear friend to her when she needed him the most, and she could never betray that. Not even for a moment of comfort.

Rex saw the discomfort running across her face and removed his hand. He knew, without any doubt, that she was chiding herself for finding comfort in his touch. She, he knew, would never allow herself to cross the line with him; not when he recently broke up with his girlfriend. He knew she still felt guilty about her part in all of that. He'd broken up with Layla Williamson the moment Cordelia asked him for help in finding Annalise. In truth, the reasons he'd broken up with Layla had a little to do with Cordelia and more to do with his feelings for her, but Rex would never tell her that. For a very long time, he (and Layla) thought that his feelings for Cordelia were more than friendship. However, the feelings he felt for his best friend, while not purely innocent due to their romantic past, was not a romantic love at all. What he felt for Cordelia was (is) an unconditional love that made him place her above anyone else. The loyalty he displayed toward Cordelia (and she toward him) left little to no room at all for his loyalty to anyone else.

"What was it this time?" he asked, feeling the need to know.

Cordelia ran two strong hands through her tousled locks. She closed her eyes tightly and let out a shaky breath, a clear sign of vulnerability and discomfort. "The first night of capture," she said then looked into his eyes. They both knew she would say no more about it, no matter how many times Rex asked. She looked over to the clock: six am. Sighing again heavily, "At least I'm up to four hours of sleep now instead of the two you're always complaining about."

Rex tried to smile but failed. He was still worried about her and the nightmares she had every night. Cordelia told him often that it is probably just due to the constant stress and the unknowing, but they both knew that reasoning was a stretch. They both knew there was some underlying problem that had yet to be addressed.

Rex moved off her bed to sit on his own so Cordelia could sit on the edge to face him. He knew she wasn't going to go back to sleep now. She was going to get up, get dressed, and start the day. Sure enough, she switched on the lamp between their beds and reached for the file he'd given her last night before she passed out from sheer exhaustion.

"This is everything on the Zacharra organization?" she asked again, forgetting that she'd asked the same thing before she went to bed.

Rex didn't point it out. Instead answered, "Everything I could dig up last night. Archie will probably have more for me later," he told her while she perused the file.

Cordelia's eyebrows shot up when she read something disturbing. "One wife, Domenica Zacharra banished to places unknown – probably dead - and another wife, Maria, shot and killed in front of eight-year old John Zacharra." She looked up from the file. "Are you serious? Why is this monster not in jail?"

"Because Trevor Lansing is a shark and had most of this buried pretty deep." Rex reached across the bed to retrieve his laptop. "The warehouse currently belongs to Anthony Zacharra," Rex read off the information on the screen. "Apparently it changed hands from Richard Lansing to its current owner when Lansing came on as Zacharra's second counsel."

"His way of buying in to the organization," Cordelia deduced. "When was that?"

"About four months ago. It's plausible that whatever was taking place in the warehouse didn't happen until after ownership changed hands." Cordelia nodded. "It also stands to reason that Lansing knew what was taking place after."

Thoughts began to form in the journalist's mind; questions that needed answers. Answers that Rex or their other computer tech Archie Stone would be able to find. "Where does Corinthos come in with all of this?"

Rex tapped a button on the computer and brought up another file. "Michael Corinthos Jr., alleged racketeer and arms importer, has also in the vying for the warehouse property. It's the most prime piece of port real estate on the docks, and his brother – Richard Lansing – handed it over to a rival organization."

"Lansing is Corinthos' brother?" Cordelia's voice sounded surprised even to her own ears.

"Yeah," Rex made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. "There's a history of bad blood not only between Richard Lansing and Corinthos, but Trevor Lansing - Richard's father - and Corinthos." Rex scoffed. "This is one seriously dysfunctional group."

"And we're right in the middle," Cordelia pointed out. The look in her eyes was as serious as the tone of her voice.

Rex could tell she was coming up with a plan. "Cord," he called her that name only when he wanted to be serious and supportive at the same time. "These people are dangerous."

Her gaze landed on his for a moment, her eyes displaying clearly whatever emotion she was trying to hide. She shook it away quickly. Shrugging, "We've been in worse places."

Rex could not deny the truth in that statement, nor did he dispute it. Instead, "This is different. We weren't smack in the middle of a mob war."

"No. We were in a _real_ war," she snapped. She closed her eyes tightly. "I'm sorry, Rexy," she told him. "I'm just…" she couldn't find the right words; she couldn't find any words.

"I know," and because he did know, he let it go. He changed the subject entirely. "I've gotten everything off the kid's hard drive. And if, for some reason in our new alliance with them," she looked at him pointedly, "they need a back-up, I have a copy."

"You and Johnny just are not going to let this go, are you?" Cordelia playfully asked, though part of her wanted a serious answer.

Rex chuckled a little. "While I find it amusing, if not ironic, that you defended the man who had you kidnapped to the police commissioner, I think McBain is just worried. He thinks you trust Jason Morgan."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. While she couldn't deny that Jason has left an impression on her and that if they were different people, she would like to get to know him, she didn't trust him. "I don't trust him, and he doesn't trust me. So, it's all fine. We're all just in an uneasy alliance with one another." She lowered her eyes from his for just a second. "But Mr. Morgan knows that I'll kill him if I have to."

"I'm more worried about that same sentiment from him towards you."

Nodding slightly, but making no other effort to acknowledge that statement, she stood up from the bed and walked to the suitcase that was at the foot of her bed. She pulled out a few pieces of clothing and stood up just in time to catch Rex staring at her in her state of undress. They may be only friends, but Rex was still a man, and not many men would completely ignore the fact that a half-naked woman was in their presence.

"Perv," she tossed over her shoulder while walking to the bathroom. "Stop staring at my ass and get back to sleep. I'm going to shower and go for a run."

When she walked into the bathroom and shut the door, she missed the look of concern masked by a bright smile on Rex's face as he turned off the light and tried to go back to sleep. When she started the water, she knew Rex couldn't hear her dialing a phone number she memorized last night.

Pressing her cell phone against her ear, she waited for the other end to pick up. When it did, and a sleepy voice said, "Jason Morgan," she remembered that it was only six-something in the morning.

"Morgan," she said his name as low as possible. "Cordelia Roberts. I need you to meet me at the explosion site in thirty minutes. It's important," she told him and hung up the phone without waiting for his response. She knew he'd be there; just as she knew he was the only one who could answer the questions in her mind.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine, _Uncharted Territory_:

Jason hated to be summoned by anyone. He hated it when Carly or Sonny did it, could only tolerate it a little when Elizabeth did it, but he definitely hated it when some psycho-bitch ex-army war veteran did it. Nevertheless, he pushed the covers of his warm, empty bed aside and headed for the shower.

He could image what she wanted: Answers. She wanted answers to the questions that lingered in both their minds since last night. Questions about the secrecy surrounding the warehouse cannery have lingered in his mind since it exploded. He wondered, really wondered, if he and Sonny underestimated Anthony Zacharra and Trevor Lansing. If the explosion at the warehouse was planned, as was Lucky's attempted shooting, not to mention the few territorial breaches Jason's men experienced last night, then he and Sonny were completely in over their heads. If those few instances were just the start of the Zacharra organization making a play for Sonny's territory, this war between their families would get very bloody very quickly.

The bathroom was full of hot, steamy mist by the time he stepped into the shower. The hard cascade of hot water did little to ease the tension in his body. Jason tried to clear his mind, but found that increasingly difficult as well. His thoughts drifted back and forth between the threat of the impending mob war and Cordelia and her quest. He couldn't quite explain, or understand really, what it is about her that commanded his thoughts. He'd found himself thinking of her beautiful face before he'd fallen asleep last night after he read the report Spinelli compiled for him, and ultimately became even more impressed with her.

Cordelia Ann Roberts was as dangerous as she was beautiful. Not only was she fiercely brave, she was equally intelligent. A child genius, Cordelia finished boarding school and headed off to New York University at age sixteen. She obtained her journalism degree by age twenty and was off to West Point to follow her father's example. In both higher education institutions, she finished at the top of her class. A feat all the more exceptional at West Point due to her sustaining a head injury and lapsing in a coma for an extended time. She'd been involved in a training exercise with other students when she was shot in the left temporal lobe, which resulted in massive brain damage. She'd come out of it not only alive and well, but better. Her mind apparently became sporadically eidetic. She could remember things just by looking at them.

Perhaps that is what impressed him the most about her. She was just like him in some ways… but better than he was because of it.

She'd sustained the same injuries he did, and was better for them. He'd read her entire medical file – or at least all Spinelli could find. She was indeed a force to be reckoned with. A fact with exhilarated and frightened him all at the same time.

Shutting the water off, he stepped out of the shower and dried off. Very little time had passed since he received her summons to meet at the explosion site, he didn't want to invoke her fury by being late. While dressing he wondered if Elizabeth would be coming home, going to pick up the boys, or spending some time with Patrick.

Pushing that thought aside, he strolled out of his bedroom after grabbing his cell phone and headed downstairs. Despite his grumpy mood, a smirk came across his face when he saw his ward sprawled out of his sofa, a mountain of papers and charts fanned out around him. He almost hated to wake him. Almost.

"Hey!" Jason called loudly, and choked back laughter when Spinelli shot up on the couch with a piece of paper stuck to his cheek.

"The Jackal was merely momentarily recharging, Stone Cold," Spinelli sputtered, yanking the paper away from his cheek, wiping his eyes, and pulling his precious laptop back on his lap.

"Did you get it up and running again?" Jason asked, walking further over to his friend.

Spinelli made a little sound in the back of his throat. "Partly. I made use of the second external hard-drive. Most of the information had been backed-up there before the Ravishing Reporter's computer tech's infamous deadly computer virus destroyed everything."

"But you can continue to look things up, right?" Jason asked, getting to the point as quickly as possible.

"Indeed, Stone Cold," Spinelli answered proudly. "The Jackal was able to complete a drastic cybernetic rerouting," he ran a gentle hand across the back of his laptop. "she should be hacking in no time."

"Good," Jason said and started for the door. "I'm going out. When I call you, I need you to be ready."

Spinelli smiled. "Fear not, Fearless Leader. The Jackal will not fail."

Jason nodded and opened the door just in time to see Elizabeth standing there digging for her keys. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hi," she returned with little to no sentiment at all. "Leaving?"

Jason nodded. "I have a meeting."

Elizabeth combined nodding with rolling her eyes. "Of course you do."

Jason didn't acknowledge her tone. "Where are the boys?"

"Still at Grams. I'm going to get some sleep before I go pick them up." She walked into the penthouse and smiled at Spinelli's greeting. She turned and looked up at her husband. "When will you be back?"

"I'm not sure. It shouldn't be long," he answered, unsure of how to feel about the question. He can't remember the last time she asked him that. He couldn't remember the last time she truly cared.

"Okay," she said at last before turning to go upstairs.

Jason and Spinelli shared a look before Jason walked out the door and closed it behind him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cordelia hated lying to Rex. On principle, she hated lying to anyone (and she didn't most times), but she really hated lying to Rex. However, she knew that Rex wouldn't understand why she was going to meet with Jason, let alone going to meet him alone. John would have a field day with that later on. Truth was, she couldn't really explain it herself. Not in any way that made any type of sense at least. Cordelia just knew – somehow - that Jason Morgan was the only one who could answer the questions brewing in her mind. In any case, he would be the one that told her what she wanted to know honestly and straightforwardly.

When presented that way, she knew Rex and John would understand, Rex especially. Yet, she found she couldn't ask anymore of him than she already has. Rex (and John) has already given up far too much for her and it pained and angered her when she thought of all they had lost.

Currently, she was taking her anger out on the pavement. Pushing her legs to the limit as she ran as far and as fast as she could through the still sleeping town. At first glance, Port Charles was a beautiful city. Cordelia could picture herself building a life here someday; it wasn't until you got a taste of the mob element that seemed a dark cloud hovering over the horizon that made showed you the real Port Charles.

Faster and further she went until she was well past the point of pain. She rounded the docks, the crumbling cannery building peeking just above the other buildings, and a mixture of emotions coursed through her. Her chest was heaving as her lungs screamed for more air when she took the dock stairs two at a time. Landing on the wooden planks, she heard, and felt, a painful cracking in her knee. It was a clear indication that she'd pushed herself too hard, but somehow, she was used to it.

She tried to run every day, in every town they were in. It started out as reconnaissance, a way to check out the town covertly; but Cordelia quickly found that the reason she ran was that it was the only time since this all began that she felt normal. She would, just for a moment, forget that her sister was missing and that she, Rex, and John continuously put themselves in harm's way to find her. She forgot her anger and her pain and the blinding rage that threatened to burn her whole.

However, if she were truthful with herself, she would see that it was her blinding rage that has brought her this far. Her rage has consumed her and filled her with…

Suddenly, she clutched her forehead and went to the ground with a painful grimace. She shut her eyes tightly when her brain felt like it was about to explode. Tiny beads of sweat prickled against the back of her neck and her forehead. Her breath quickened to short raspy gasps while images of things she'd rather forget played behind her eyes.

She knew what was happening, knew that it was a possibility after all the stress she's been under lately, she just didn't think she'd have another of these episodes so fast. After all, the last one was merely two weeks ago. Another pain hit her just as quickly as the first had and she collapsed further to ground.

While she was trying to remember if she'd taken her pills this morning, she didn't hear the footsteps coming towards her. Trying to hold the pieces of her fractured mind together, Cordelia suddenly felt a shift in her personality.

"Cordelia?" someone said softly. The person knelt next to her and tried to touch her. "Cordelia?"

Their hand landed on her shoulder, and all the rage she'd been trying to keep in check erupted forcefully. She lunged at the person – a man - and knocked him on his back. His head hit the wooden planks painfully hard, and that left him open for another attack. She straddled his waist and swiftly pulled his gun from his shoulder holster inside his jacket. She pointed the gun directly at him, inches from his face and she looked down into Jason Morgan's deep blue eyes.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten, _Into Madness_:

This day was turning out to be something of an annoyance to Jason. As if being summoned at six in the morning wasn't bad enough, he was currently pinned underneath the body of the woman who summoned him with his gun in his face, and her smirking face gazing down at him. Yes, he was bigger and stronger than she was, but with the gun so close to him, and Cordelia being an excellent shot…

Yeah, it was a friggin' great day so far.

The aforementioned woman, Cordelia, was staring down at Jason with a mixture of distrust and… dare he say lust in her green eyes. Jason knew already that she was beautiful. He's seen that last night when Max and Milo brought her to the safe house. That creamy caramel skin glowing in the dim lights of the house. Long, slender arms and legs accompanied with a taut waist and other firm features. The woman was a Goddess and, married or not, someone would have to be blind not to see it; but right now, the look she gave him was touching something primal inside. Something other than fear, and something he shouldn't feel for a woman who was not his wife.

"Mr. Morgan," Cordelia purred. A sultry smirk crossed her pink lips, and a mischievous gleam glinted in her green eyes. "Didn't anybody ever tell you it's not nice to sneak up on people?"

Jason eyed her skeptically. Was she being coy by asking a rhetorical question? Was this some twisted game to exert her power? Did she really expect an answer? Her eyes narrowed slightly at him, expectantly, and Jason realized she wasn't kidding.

"I was on my way to meet you," he told her, trying to focus on her eyes and not the gun she had aiming at his face. "I saw you on the ground. You looked like you were in pain."

"And you wanted to help me?" she gave a slight pout with her lips, and feigned sadness. "How noble of a murdering mobster to take pity on poor defenseless me."

"I'm not the one holding a gun on someone right now, am I?"

She held the gun directly against his cheek. "That's a pretty ballsy statement coming from someone in your predicament, don't you think?" She lowered her face to his, close enough to feel his breath on her face, close enough to touch his lips with hers, and inhaled deeply. "You're afraid of me," she told him, looking up into his eyes softly.

He couldn't dispute that. Not right now when she seemed a completely different woman than the one he'd met last night. Not when she had his gun pressed against his face and could put an end to his life in a mere second if she chose. Not when all he could think about was her sweet breath on his skin, or the way her body felt on top of his.

"No," he lied. "I just don't like being ambushed or played for a fool."

She smiled at that. "Give me one good reason," she pressed the gun harder against his cheek. So hard Jason knew it would leave an imprint. "…why I shouldn't just kill you now and save myself the trouble of you betraying me later on?"

Jason couldn't think of anything but her pulling the trigger. Cordelia exhaled deeply when she sat up straight again. Jason felt her hand relax against his cheek. The gun dipped slightly and he took his shot. In one fell swoop, he grabbed the gun with one hand, grabbed Cordelia around the waist with the other, and rolled them so that he was the one pinning her to the wooden planks while the hand that held the gun stretched above her head, away from them both. Surprisingly, during their struggle, the gun did not go off. Jason counted it as a small miracle, or perhaps Cordelia submitting.

The latter proved to be true when he looked down at her and she still had that smirk on her face. The look in her eyes burned him, white hot under the collar, and he grew angry. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Just answers," Cordelia answered with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"There's a better way of getting them," he said while taking the gun from her grasp, but didn't let her up.

"Says the man who still has me pinned to the ground."

He looked down at her beautiful face and wondered what was going on in her mind. He wondered what anyone would think if they happened to come across them like this. The fact that his wife hadn't gone through his mind once while he contemplated his own death wasn't lost on him. It made him equally sad and angry.

Jason stood up and Cordelia did the same. He holstered his weapon and looked over Cordelia who stared at him intently. She looked like a completely different woman to him right now.

"I'm not a split personality, if that's what you're thinking, asshole," Cordelia told him.

Jason looked her over once more, but said nothing. He didn't want to let her know that was exactly what he was thinking, and he just didn't want to get into it at all. He didn't want to know any more about her than he had to know. He didn't want to think about her and he certainly didn't want to care about her. Finding out what she wanted was the fastest way to get rid of her.

"Why did you call me?" he asked, sounding just as bitter as he felt.

"I need you to tell me about the Zacharras," she said matter-of-factly. "Everything that you know about them, I need to know."

"Like what?" Jason asked, wondering if he were really going to divulge information about the organization to her.

"Like who's in charge for starters," Cordelia said. "Anthony Zacharra or Trevor Lansing?"

Jason thought about it for a moment. "I can't answer that."

"Why not?" her eyes flared slightly.

"Because I'm not sure," he said. "Anthony has a history of mental illness and Trevor has done a good job of hiding that for years. He's kept Anthony locked away, but lucid. It's a tough call to make."

"What about the kids?" she paused trying to remember the names. "Claudia and Johnny."

"Neither of them is in charge, like Trevor, nor want anything to do with their father. Claudia would like to run the organization, and Anthony chooses to give it to Johnny when the time comes."

"Something I'm sure neither Trevor nor your boss likes very much." Jason didn't respond and Cordelia laughed a little. "It's okay to admit it. I know what kind of man you are, Morgan. I'm under no illusions about the kind of work you do." She smiled at him. "I know that your organization stands to gain from all of this. If the Zacharras have anything to do with my sister's disappearance, you know I'll do anything in my power to take them down. I bet you're counting on it as it saves you from having to do it yourself. I know. I know all about you. From your golden childhood to your accident and everything thereafter. From your wife and your son to your best friend Carly Jacks."

"Would that be the information your friend Rex got off Spinelli's hard drive before crippling it with a virus?"

"No, that I found out on my own," she told him. "And that computer thing wasn't personal. We're nothing but ghosts in this town; won't but rattle the floor. We didn't expect you to be… an ally," she said the last part softly, unsure.

"Yeah, why would a West Point grad, a P.I., and an FBI agent need another ally?" Her eyebrows rising was the only expression she gave. "Yeah, I know about you as well. A child genius who graduated high school and went to college at sixteen. Graduated college at twenty and went to West Point, where you were shot and received massive brain damage. You came out of it, but your mind was slightly eidetic."

"A trait that's worked well for me so far. I'd be careful if I were you. I read some information about you that I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to fall into the wrong hands."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No," Cordelia shook her head with a small smile. "I'm not; it's just the first rule of war, Mr. Morgan. Know your enemy and know your allies. And I'm not quite clear which side you're falling on yet."

"If you want my help, you're going to have to decide," he said. "You're going to have to trust me, and I'm going to have to trust you."

"Why should I do that?" she asked incredulously.

"Because I'm here. Sonny and the guys want your head on a stick along with the Zacharras and I'm here." His blue eyes bore deeply into hers, hoping she would notice the weight of his actions.

Nodding slightly in acknowledgement, "Tell me about the man you know as Cooper Barrett."

"Nothing really," Jason responded. "He was pretty private."

"What did he do for Sonny?" Cordelia wanted to know.

"He was Sonny's inside man in the PCPD," he said, regretfully. Telling private information about Sonny's operation would be seen as a betrayal in the mobster's eyes, but Jason found that he couldn't lie to her.

"He dated Commissioner Scorpio's daughter, correct?"

"Maxie? Yeah, for a while," he left out the part about Maxie finding Coop's dead body hanging from the rafters.

"What's the off chance that she would know anything about him?"

"Slim," Jason said. "Coop wasn't the kind of man to reveal anything, especially if he were doing something wrong. Definitely if it were wrong. He cared for Maxie."

"Forgive me if I'm having trouble reconciling that with the image of the man who's kidnapped my sister."

Jason's phone rang, interrupting the moment, and part of him was glad. "Yeah," he answered gruffly. He appeared to be listening to something interesting, then said, "Good work," and hung up.

"I'm guessing that was your tech," Cordelia said. "And he's gotten his computer up and running again. Smart kid."

"Yeah, he's found something," Jason said. "Does the name Paul Wade mean anything to you?"

Cordelia did a good job of masking her feelings behind a veneer of calm. Did the name Paul Wade mean anything to her? Of course it did. How could the name of the man who first got her sister hooked on drugs _not_ mean anything to her?

She opened her mouth to say no, to lie, and run away from him, but she couldn't. They'd resolved to try to trust each other while working together toward their respective goals.

"He's…" she began to say when two men came upon them and raised their weapons to shoot. Jason pulled out his gun to fire off a shot, while pushing Cordelia behind him since she was – _uncharacteristically_ - unarmed. His first bullet hit one of the men in the shoulder, while the second gunman's bullet grazed his shoulder and then grazed Cordelia's arm. They both tumbled back off the edge of the dock into the chilling, murky water below.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven, _Breath_:

_The sun bled red across the horizon. A chilly air swept across as dusk settled across the land. Or, at least Cordelia thought it was dusk. She hadn't slept for days; they wouldn't let her, and she was clearly disoriented. The need for food and water was powerfully overwhelming, but somehow she managed. She noted how the sky above her was a mixture of colors; blue and orange, as if the sky were burning with an incontrollable fire. Her captors walked her quickly back to the shack where they kept her and the rest of the captors. In another shack a few feet away was where they'd held her for days. They took a hostage there every day for questioning and other things Cordelia couldn't bring herself to think on right now. She just wanted to sleep. She didn't care that it would be in a hostage shack with most of her comrades in tears from fear and pain, or that in a few hours the torture she'd just experienced would either happen to her again or to someone else, she just wanted to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and retreat to slumber._

_The burly man who'd been walking out in front of her hit the wooden door of the shack so hard that it splintered a bit. Another man pushed her roughly inside; and Cordelia, tired and broken, crumbled to the ground. A sharp gasp was torn from her lips when a searing pain shot through her. Her eyes landed on Cooper laid out on his back in the corner. She slowly crawled to him, hoping the guard didn't see, and touched her hand to his._

"_Cooper?" she whispered, her voice raspy and hoarse. Cooper didn't flinch at her touch, he didn't move at all, and that worried her. His skin, though dirty and bloodied, was pale. She touched his cheek. "Coop?"_

_His eyes fluttered open and he tried to focus on her as best he could. "You're back," he said softly. It was then that Cordelia noticed his trouble with breathing. The broken vessels in his eyes made them bloodshot red, but also identified and underlying problem. "Are you okay?" he asked._

_Nodding slightly, she lied to him. "Yeah." She caressed his cheek softly and felt how cold he was in comparison to other times. "Enough about me. Are you okay?"_

_When his wet cough sputtered up a substantial amount of blood, Cordelia placed her hand over her mouth to stop the sob before it could escape. "Oh, Coop," she said behind her hand. They both knew he was dying._

"_I heard," another short cough, "I heard from one of them that a US convoy is in the area searching for you. Looks like our fathers called in the cavalry."_

_Closing her eyes tightly, she knew that news was a blessing and a curse rolled into one. "They're going to kill us," she said. She'd pretty much been resigned to the fate since her capture. _

"_You can get out of here," he told her. She saw his hand groping for something underneath him and she reached to help. She put her hands on one of the weapons her captors brandished daily and gaped at him. "I took this from the other shack the last time I was there." He looked over to the guard by the door. "If the time comes, I want you to use this and you get the hell out of here."_

_Shaking her head profusely, "I can't leave you."_

"_I'm dead weight, Cordi," he told her. "You and I both know I'm as good as dead." At that, she dropped her head in sorrow as tears fell onto his chest. "You've got a shot. You can get out of here and tell our story. You let the world know what happened here." He wrapped her hand in his and held on as tightly as he could. "You run, Cordelia, as fast and as far as you can." His eyes spoke the rest of the words his mouth could not say._

_Cordelia gave him a watery smile, a thank you of sorts, and leaned forward to kiss his lips. She kissed him for all the times she wished she could and all the times she never would be able to again. She kissed him because she loved him and wanted him to know it._

_Suddenly, she was forced away by someone pulling on her hair. The guard who'd been by the door was cursing them both in Arabic. He hit Cooper in the stomach with the edge of his weapon and Cordelia cried out for him to stop. She watched him hit Cooper again and again while listening to Cooper cry and wail in pain. _

_It wasn't until she shot the man in the head did she realize that she still had the gun in her hand. She stood up with the gun in hand and shot him again. Again. For Cooper. Again. For herself. Again. For her companions. Until there were no more bullets left. She stared at his lifeless body and saw nothing. She heard no sounds in her ears, until Cooper yelled her name." _

"_Cordelia!" he yelled hoarsely. She dropped the gun and knelt beside him. He was dying and in pain and they both knew it. The look in his eyes told her clearly what he wanted. She shook her head. She couldn't. "Do it! Please! Don't let me die by their hands." She stared at him, broken and in sheer agony. She grabbed the gun and closed her eyes and shot him._

_She looked around the room and all she could see were bodies. Friend and enemies alike jumbled together and all the rage and anger she'd kept locked inside these past six months erupted like a volcano. Her friends were suffering, she had to save them. Shot after shot went off into the bodies of her comrades. Her captors were met with similar fates as they burst through the open door and it wasn't until the last body hit the floor did she let the weapon fall from her hands._

_There was not a sound heard over the roaring of her blood. Her shallow, raspy breaths were unsteady and hardly provided her lungs with the nourishment they craved. Her brown eyes scanned the room slowly. Body after body lay on the floor, friends and enemies of her plight. Though the room was quiet, she could still hear screaming. Could still feel the pain her enemies inflicted upon her body. Could still hear the gunshots and smell the blood. _

_Suddenly, she dropped to her knees and vomited. She cried out, her voice breaking off in a shrieking sob, as her senses overpowered her. Feelings of anger, rage, sickness, hatred, depression and pain... She shut her eyes tightly as another wave hit her. Her mind was swimming in a sea of despair and she was content to die in that spot in that moment._

"_You run, Cordelia…" she remembered Cooper saying. _

_Then something deep inside her told her to move. Fierce propulsion started in the pit of her stomach and she stood. Night was falling across the horizon and she had to get out of there soon. If she had any chance of surviving, she had to leave now._

_Running as fast as she could out the door, she didn't hear the gasping breaths of a comrade who had survived her hail of bullets._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Cordelia opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by the murky waters. She remembered vaguely the encounter with Jason on the docks, pinning him under her body with his gun pointed at him was something she was sure neither of them would ever forget. She remembered the men shooting at them and being struck in the shoulder before she and Jason tumbled into the water. It all happened so fast that she didn't get a chance to take a significant breath, and her need for air was becoming an issue.

She started to swim to the surface when she felt a strong arm around her waist. Jason held her in place tightly against his body, pointing upward, careful to not disturb the water, to the men who'd shot at them still standing on the docks watching for movement. Cordelia motioned, also carefully, to her throat; telling him of her need for air. They needed to resurface soon or she would suffocate.

To say that she was surprised when she felt Jason's lips against hers would have been an understatement. To feel his soft, warm flesh pressed firmly against hers was a direct contrast to the cold water. Being held securely in his strong arms so close to his body, she felt weightless, almost as if she were floating. She closed her eyes when his lips parted slightly, coaxing hers to do the same and he exhaled softly into her mouth. Feeling the warmth of his breath invading her mouth was as much a shock as it was sensual. The fact that he was giving her air at all was her something, but the sensuality of it all was her undoing. She took all that he gave her hungrily, breathing him in, giving her lungs the nourishment they lacked.

Jason tugged at her slightly, his arms never leaving her waist and they swam together underneath the dock. They resurfaced slowly, careful not to make too much noise as they both gasped for a much-needed breath. When she opened her eyes again, she was met with the same deep blue eyes she'd looked into a few minutes ago, but something in them had softened. Something in them _both_ had softened, and she knew he felt it too.

Huddled together for warmth in the cold water, they waited silently until they heard footsteps retreating. Once they were gone far enough, Jason felt it was safe to speak. Still, in a quiet voice he asked, "Are you okay?" Cordelia nodded then winced when his hand brushed against the open wound on her arm. "You're bleeding," he said, examining her wound.

"So are you," she pointed at the tear in his leather jacket. The look he gave clearly showed that the article of clothing was his favorite. "Did you recognize them?" she asked, changing the subject, putting some measure of business between them again. "Those men?"

"Yeah," Jason replied gruffly. "They work for Zacharra." He looked into her eyes and didn't see the same _something_ (he really didn't know what to call it) that he saw when she pinned him to the planks. A curious thought struck him suddenly. "They must have followed me here."

"That means they saw me," Cordelia was already ahead of him. The sirens in the background stopped the next words that would have come out of her mouth. Instead she said, "We can't stay here." She was already swimming for the banks when Jason asked her where she expected them to go. "They probably know we're not dead by now so I'm sure they're going to pick up your trail again once we leave. That means we can't go to your place or any other place associated with you or your boss."

She crawled up onto the dirt slowly, the muscle cramps she felt in her legs caused by the running and the freezing water. Jason watched, unabashedly, the way her clothes clung to her frame. He could make out nearly every curve of her body underneath the wet fabric, and it stirred him. Helplessly, he watched her peel off the jacket to the jogging outfit revealing the creamy caramel skin of her long, sinewy arms. When his mind went back to their earlier encounter and his helping her underwater, and he had to practically tear his eyes away from her.

Cordelia tied the jacket around her waist, and looked up at him. She could see the taut muscles of his stomach beneath the black shirt that was plastered to his skin. She couldn't bring herself to look into those blue eyes of his for fear of seeing something she wasn't ready to face.

She cleared her throat softly. "I know a place not far from here," when she looked up into his eyes this time she was all business. "We can go there."

"Okay," Jason said and started to head in the direction of his motorcycle when Cordelia grabbed at his wrist. Feeling her tiny fingers grasping his skin was like fire, and every second they lingered there only caused the fire within him to grow. "What?"

"Walking would be better," she told him softly. Already knowing exactly what he was headed for. She dropped his wrist. "Easier to avoid the cops and whoever was trailing you to begin with."

Nodding, Jason was quiet when they started to walk in the opposite direction. Away from the sirens of the police cars, away from the men who'd tried to gun them down in broad daylight, away from whatever it was they both experienced on and underneath the docks…

He breathed in deeply.

What they were walking towards… he just couldn't say.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve, The Broken and the Damned:

Rex's heart nearly stopped when Cordelia walked through the door with Jason Morgan. He and John were in the motel room Rex shared with Cordelia going over exit strategies for all three of them if the impending mob war got out of control, when his best friend walked in with the mob enforcer - wet and bleeding - both looking disheveled and worse for wear.

To his credit, he didn't take pull his gun out its holster and shoot Jason for whatever danger he'd brought to her, nor did he yell and scream at Cordelia for meeting with a known mobster alone and unarmed. Instead, he pushed back the chair and stood silently gaping at her, trying to fight the images of finding her on the side of the road in Iraq and seeing her again in that interrogation room with Dr. Reardon.

"What's going on?" John asked, the first one to break the awkward silence in the room. His gaze shifted from Jason to Cordelia slowly, taking in the sight of them while his mind wondered what happened. He looked over to Rex and saw the other man's jaw clenching with quiet anger. John couldn't tell if Rex was angry because Cordelia endangered herself or because he was jealous.

Cordelia inhaled sharply, untying her jacket from her waist and tossing it on the floor, then started toward her duffle bag at the edge of her bed. "We were shot at on the docks by Anthony Zacharra's men," she told them, avoiding any and all eye contact (which Jason bore the brunt of).

"What," John began slowly while she took off the still wet tank top and tossed that to the floor as well. She stood before the three men in nothing but a sports bra. "Were you doing at the docks?"

She tilted her head to the side, amused at John's questioning. "Meeting Jason," she told him.

At the mention of his name, John turned to Jason. "Why?" he asked the mob enforcer.

Cordelia laughed softly while digging into her duffle bag. She stood up pulling out two first aid kits. "Johnny, quit the interrogation, okay." She tossed Jason one of the kits. "It won't do much for your jacket, but it should be fine for your arm," she joked, and none of the men found it quite funny. "Okay, tough crowd."

"What about you getting shot at is funny?" Rex asked. His anger was at such a great level that he had to force himself to stay in his spot. He wasn't quite sure what he'd do otherwise.

Cordelia didn't have time to answer as John said, "And why is it not surprising that it happened as soon as she was in your presence?" he directed at Jason. "So far she's been almost blown up in a warehouse, kidnapped, and now shot at all thanks to you, Morgan."

Jason didn't say anything; there was nothing he could say, and even if he did, Rex and John wouldn't care to hear it.

"Stop it!" Cordelia demanded. "This is getting us nowhere. We all have to work together whether we like it or not."

"No, no we don't," Rex pointed out. "We were doing just fine before _he_ happened." Rex's finger pointed at Jason was as accusatory as his tone.

"Rex, we're in way over our heads here," Cordelia pointed out. "Whatever happened to Annalise happened because of some Machiavellian mob family. There is no way we can find out anything useful from them on our own. You're a PI, Johnny's FBI and I'm a journalist. They're not going to talk to us."

"So, what, you're going to let Jason intimidate them with violence?" His head snapped toward Jason so fast it made a popping sound. "What are you going to do, Morgan? Hang one of them on a meat hook? Lock them in a padded room with no food and water?"

Jason eyes narrowed at the private investigator. Obviously, he'd done some research into Sonny's past tactics and was using them as a form of attack. Jason had never felt the need to prove himself to anyone before, but he found himself saying, "No, but while we're talking about past discretions, how about you keeping Todd Manning's child away from him?" Rex's jaw clenched in anger when he stepped closer to the enforcer. Jason, however, continued on undeterred. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to impress Cordelia or prove something to the other blond man. "Or your past association with R.J. Gannon or Mitch Laurence?"

"That's enough!" Cordelia yelled stepping between Jason and Rex. It was obvious that John had no intentions of stopping them from the impending brawl. "Stop this! We've all done things we're not proud of. We've all done illegal things for whatever reason."

"He kills people for a living, Cord," Rex pointed out, his blood boiling hot underneath the surface.

"I know that," Cordelia said. "I know what he does and who he is. He's a damned menace and I know that… but I still need his help."

"He could get you killed."

Cordelia shook her head. "Maybe, but he saved me today. He could have left me out in the open but he didn't," she left out the part about his giving her air underwater, there was enough for Rex to be mad about at the moment.

"He will bring us nothing but danger."

"I'm not asking you to trust him," she moved a bit (still between Jason and Rex) so that they were in a circle and she could see all three of them. "I'm not asking any of you to trust each other. Trust me. Help me get my sister home safely. Please?"

The three men were silent for a long moment before John took the first aid kit out of Jason's hand. "Take off your jacket," John instructed, the first one to break the silence again. He pulled the chair Rex had been sitting in close to the bed. It was a subtle gesture, but one Cordelia appreciated nonetheless.

When Jason sat down in the chair, she shared a glance with Rex, offering him a silent appease with her eyes before heading off to the bathroom. She hoped the three men could be cordial to each other while she tended her wounds, but when Rex entered the bathroom a second after she did, she braced for another argument.

Sighing heavily, "Rexy, I'm not in the mood for another fight," she told him.

"Then shut up and sit down," Rex replied while holding out his hand for the first aid kit. Cordelia did as she was told and sat atop the bathroom sink with her back pressing against the cold mirror. Rex opened the kit to reveal a more detailed one than a regular first aid kit. He took out the necessary tools to apply her stitches. "I'm sorry."

She sucked in breath through her clenched teeth when he dabbed alcohol on her wound. "For what?"

"For coming down so hard on you and Morgan," he looked up at her briefly then diverted his eyes again. "Don't get me wrong, I meant what I said. He will probably bring us more danger than we've already encountered and I don't trust him… but I do trust you." His eyes met hers again, and this time they were softer, conveying deep emotions he couldn't quite say. "I never meant to imply that I didn't but when I saw you come through the door bleeding looking as though you'd walked through hell I thought…"

"I know what you thought," Cordelia said when his voice trailed off.

"It just reminded me of a time when you were broken, that's all. I want to protect you from that."

"You can't," Cordelia told him. "And I'm still broken. There are parts of me that no can fix but me." Rex nodded sagely while a steady hand pulled together her torn skin. Silence abound between them before Cordelia said, "I had an episode on the docks." She waited for him to lock eyes with her and when he did, she saw the worry that was always there. "I pinned him to the ground and held his gun on him - in his face, to be precise." She sighed again. "It came on so fast, I…" she couldn't think of the proper way to describe the change that took place in her mind. "I could have killed him, probably would have if it were a worse episode and he still saved me, Rex."

"Did he know what was happening?"

"I think so; or at least, he thought it was another personality."

"So he doesn't know that you were fully cognizant at the time?"

"Not yet."

They shared another glance. "Yet?"

"I'm going to tell him about it?"

Rex made an angry face and sighed deeply. "Cordi… why?"

"Because I could get him killed… and he needs to know why."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

John took less care with Jason's stitches than he knew Rex was taking with Cordelia's. Such as it should be: John didn't care for Jason. He barely liked the man, but Cordelia asked him to try to work with him so he did. He looked up at Jason, who stared straight ahead, watching the door intently. John smirked to himself, knowing the reason Jason watched the door so closely.

"She's amazing," John said. "Beautiful, intelligent, and dangerous." Jason turned his head to John but didn't say anything. He knew John was trying to make a point. "Why are you helping her?"

"Because she asked me to," was Jason's simple yet loaded answer.

John chuckled softly. "Come on, man. She's a beautiful girl."

"I'm a married man," Jason replied to John's hidden innuendo.

"Yeah, that's right, you are. Married man with a son, step-son, and a computer-tech ward. You've got a family to protect."

"I am," Jason said. "Look, I get what you're trying to do, but I'm not going anywhere. Cordelia asked for my help and I'm going to help her. I don't care about getting the Zacharra's territory or you and Balsom having a problem with me, I don't care. I know what she's feeling with her sister being missing and I owe her for having her taken and wasting her time." Jason turned his head straight and went back to staring at the door. "You and Balsom don't have to trust me, but you're not going to scare me away."

John, though impressed, didn't say anything. He nodded sagely, pulling through the last of Jason's stitches and said, "Okay, you're done here." Jason knew the other man was talking about more than the stitches.

John's phone rang and he answered it while stepping outside the door. As soon as he did, Cordelia stepped outside the bathroom door alone. Jason let his gaze soften when their eyes met. He couldn't quite keep his eyes from drinking in the sight of her, and he stood when she walked over to him.

"Where's John?" she asked.

"He stepped out," Jason replied. He looked at her bandaged arm, thinking how it matched his own. "How's your arm?"

She raised it and glanced at it, then shrugged. "I've looked worse." And she did. "Listen…" she sat on the bed, "I need to talk to you about what happened on the docks."

Jason stared at her with a mixture of sadness and anger. 'I'll find out who they were and who sent them,"

"No," she interrupted him. "Not that. Before that… my attacking you," she swallowed hard. "There's… a reason for that and you need to know what it is because it could end up getting you killed. I could kill you the way I did my friends in Iraq."


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen_, Dark Recess:_

Jason shifted on the heel of his boot uncomfortably as Cordelia sat on the edge of bed. She stared at him intently, the expression on her face changing constantly. The stoic look in her eyes did less to ease the growing knot in his stomach. Seriousness, remorse, and unfettered anger mingled tightly on her beautiful face, and the enforcer wondered just how dangerous she truly could be.

Cordelia's eyes drifted away from Jason's expressionless face briefly. She couldn't believe she was sitting there trying to find the proper way to tell someone about her condition. The only people who knew were Rex and John, and outside of them, the psychiatrist that diagnosed her. It was unfathomable really - telling a mob enforcer her medical condition. The thought that he would somehow use it against her wasn't too far from her mind, but she couldn't see how that could properly benefit him. Having schizoaffective disorder didn't make her incoherent or able to easily manipulate.

It made her terrifying.

The episodes she experienced were a simple break in her psychosis - or as simple as that could possibly be. Her personality shifted slightly away from reality to delusions of grandeur (where she felt she had to save everyone) to manic/depressive episodes where she could hardly control the anger, sadness, and rage.

The episodes didn't usually last long. Not anymore, not since she's been taking her medication, but when one did happen upon her…

Cordelia's eyes snapped back up to Jason's face. How could she tell him all of that and possibly expect him to understand? She hardly understood it herself. Yet, didn't he deserve to know? Didn't he deserve to know the circumstances before pledging his allegiance?

As she stared at him, Cordelia wondered if she could really, possibly trust Jason Morgan? Sure, his saving her life on the docks counted for something, but he was still a mob enforcer. He was still a danger to have around and could possibly be far more detrimental than anything else. And in knowing that, or rather realizing it, she found that she did trust him.

Her eyes diverted away again and closed briefly, checking back whatever she didn't want him to see. She'd never really trusted any this quickly besides Rex. Sweet, wonderful, blue-eyed soldier Rex who'd saved her and taken care of her. Rex who loved her, cared for her, and walked beside her no matter the cost. Her best friend sacrificed so much for her, and she felt awful comparing Jason Morgan to him. Jason Morgan who stood in front of her aimed weapon and asked her t trust him. Jason Morgan who saved her life on the docks from gunmen after asking her to trust him. Jason Morgan who risked his life by defying the mob and helping her.

How could she not trust him? Even a little?

"Jason," she said softly, opening her eyes to meet his. "I…"

"You don't have to tell me," the blond enforcer said. He'd watched her struggle with the task and, though curious, ultimately decided that he didn't need to know. "I don't need to know."

Cordelia rose from the bed to stand before him. "Morgan," she countered. "I could kill you."

Jason nodded slightly, finding it hard to tear his eyes away from her. As small as she was, her presence was commanding. A small smirk curled the corners of his mouth when he stepped closer to her. He liked the way she didn't seem to respond to his advance. Liked the way she seemed to have no fear.

"I'm Jason Morgan, chief enforcer for the Corinthos organization," he said quietly, his blue eyes staring deeply into hers. "I'm known throughout the mob world as one of the deadliest men alive." His eyes left hers briefly, Jason remembering how she could smell the fear on him, before saying, "Some of the most treacherous men in the world know who I am. You can't possibly be a bigger threat to me than they are."

Somewhere in her mind, Cordelia knew that Jason meant that as a way to appease. He was trying to find a way to dissuade her from her desire to disclose her mental condition. She knew that, and a part of her appreciated it, but she couldn't let it happen. Jason had a family to return to.

"Do those men have mental conditions that make them think they're out to save the world? Do they have something in their minds that make them think killing their friends is the _right_ thing to do? That you're _saving_ them?" She looked angry now, and her eyes glistened with tears she wouldn't let fall. "Do they hear voices?" she whispered softly, wondering if she looked as broken as she sounded. "The voices of the fallen." It was then they both knew she was speaking of more than her mental condition, or even the men Jason had been speaking of. She was speaking of her sister, trying to find a rational reason in an irrational situation.

Jason fought the urge to hold her, wondering somewhat why he felt the urge to do so at all. "No," he told her. "They're not sick or have mental conditions that make them evil. They're just evil. They do evil things to innocent people simply because they want to, and because they feel it's their right." Jason felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach at the classification - especially since he considered himself one of them.

"Why are you helping me, then?" Cordelia asked, her eyes expressing clearly what she could not say. "Your boss, to be as powerful as he is, is among these men and he considers me a threat. You're defying him, your friends, and your own screwed up code of honor by being here." She let out a sharp exhale. "Why?"

"Because you asked me to," he told her much in the same way he told John. "Because I _am_ one of those men who hurts people simply because I think it's my right and that I can. Because your sister is innocent, and if helping you get her back will wash some of the blood off my hands…" He choked back the words of hope that his son wouldn't grow up to hate him for what he does. Besides, he knew nothing would ever wash the blood off his hands.

Cordelia looked up into Jason eyes and saw immediately the same self-loathing she often saw in her own eyes. He looked like a man who'd come to regret the choices he's made in life, but could no more alter his course than he could change the rising of the tide. She, too, knew what it felt like to look back and have nothing but regrets. She had quite a few of her own.

"You asked for my help," Jason continued after a moment of silence. "I'm giving it to you. There are plenty of ways I could have died, should have died, and probably will… but if I die helping you… then I would have at least done something right. Something… to be proud of."

She understood his reasoning, found it almost admirable. Still, Cordelia could see the potential for danger in their alliance - and no longer just for herself. "This is a risky chance you're taking, here, Morgan." When Jason realized her eyes now held concern for his well-being, he was genuinely touched. It'd been such a long time since anyone but Spinelli showed a genuine concern for him that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"I know," he said simply.

His blue eyes held such expression, that Cordelia found it hard to think clearly. She was beginning to see Jason in an entirely different light. She swallowed hard and stepped around him. "Let's get started then," she said. "Rex!" she called her friend who appeared in the doorway of the bathroom a moment later. Rex looked between the two of them, having heard their conversation from the other side of the door, he, too, looked at Jason with a different view. "Morgan has decided that he doesn't want to know about my condition… for now." She walked to the desk and grabbed a folder. Rex followed suit and crossed over to sit at his computer while Jason stood behind Cordelia. "Here." She handed him the folder. "This is everything we've been able to find on Tom Courtland."

Jason opened the file to another picture of Cooper. Behind that was a copy of a driver's license, a bank statement, a credit card application and other forms of paper identification.

"It's everything you expect to find in a ghost file," Cordelia said. "Everything that proves he exists… but it's nothing really. Seems Tom Courtland didn't exist until two years ago." Jason looked up at her while she spoke. "He has a home, a credit card, an empty bank account even a job… but he doesn't exist. No arrests… not even a speeding ticket. He's also never been admitted to any hospitals in this country."

"How did he get a social security number then?" Jason wanted to know. "You need that for credit cards and such."

"Stolen," Cordelia responded. "That was the first thing we checked. That number belongs to a man who died nearly thirty years ago."

"Somebody went to a lot of trouble to create this identity for him," Jason said, once again looking over the information. "This had to cost a fortune."

"So, whoever he is he has a sizable bank account," Rex added absently as he typed information into his computer.

"Hang on," Jason interjected, his brow furrowing with confusion. "I know this address." He walked over to the bed and pulled his cell phone out of his jacket and hit a speed dial button. The three of them waited silently for whomever the enforcer called to answer, though Rex and Cordelia had a good idea who it was. Cordelia gave Rex a look and he smiled before typing something in.

When Spinelli answered, Jason cut into the teenager's incessant rambling about the shoot-out on the docks (apparently someone sent Sonny a message about it), and had him look up the information on Paul Wade.

"Check the last known address of Paul Wade," Jason ordered, and a sudden beeping of the computer screen in front of him grabbed his attention. A window was open on Rex's computer screen that showed Spinelli looking bewildered at the open window on his computer screen that showed the three of them.

"Um… greetings, Noble Travelers," Spinelli muttered, his voice sounding a bit distorted over the computer.

"I've hijacked your computer ISP and your webcam, kid," Rex told him. "This is a secure network so you don't have to worry about speaking this that cryptic way."

"That's just the way he speaks," Jason pointed out. Cordelia laughed as Rex and Jason shared a look.

"Spinelli," Cordelia spoke to him, saying his name for the first time. This was not lost on Spinelli as his immediately blushed a crimson red. "What information do you have on Paul Wade and why?"

Spinelli cleared his throat and smoothed his hair. "When Stone Cold and I - the Jackal, Ace of Cyberspace," Cordelia and Rex both looked at Jason, who stared straight ahead. "arrived home last night, Stone Cold instructed me to retrieve any information available about Cooper Barrett."

"Which I'm sure led to his time in Iraq," Cordelia posed.

"Right, Ravishing Reporter," Spinelli commented, unable to hear Cordelia asking Jason what he just called her in a low whisper. "It turned up his service record and his return home two years ago. However, some of the information didn't coincide with the supposed arrival of Cooper Barrett in Port Charles, so the Jackal searched even deeper."

"Things like what?" Cordelia asked, her eyebrow rose in question.

"Cooper was brought home two months shy of completing his service deployment."

"Okay, for the sake of argument, that is not uncommon if a soldier is wounded in war. He would recuperate in an army hospital before being taken stateside if his injuries permit."

"Right," Spinelli agreed. "But Cooper arrived home nearly two weeks after his supposed recuperation."

"So what was he doing in Iraq for those extra two weeks?"

"I wasn't able to obtain that information; however, I did find where he was right after."

"Where?"

"The Saint Augustus Medical Center in Manhattan," Spinelli said. "He spent three weeks there and is on record for having four facial reconstructions done."

The temperature in Cordelia's body dropped several degrees. She could almost see what was happening in her mind and it made her sick to her stomach. "He was having surgery to look like Cooper," she announced.

"Apparently not enough for you to recognize him," Rex replied. "Maybe he couldn't get close enough. Spinelli, can you send me that information?"

Spinelli agreed and via the click of a button, the information was in front of all of them.

"Okay, okay…" Cordelia said trying to regain some of her composure. Anger pricked at the base of her spine. "Why would anyone want to have reconstructive surgery to look like Cooper Barrett?" she asked, but it wasn't really a question. She was going through the motions in her mind, being the journalist she was by asking the tough questions.

"He's the son of Harlan Barrett," Jason answered.

"Okay, but why create the alias of Tom Courtland if you already have a fortune at your disposal? Why come to Port Charles?"

"Maybe he's running from something?" Rex posed.

"Or someone found out that he isn't who he's saying and is blackmailing him," Cordelia said. At any rate, she didn't want to think about someone disrespecting the memory of her deceased comrade. She looked back at Spinelli on the screen. "What does any of this have to do with Paul Wade?"

"The home address is the same," Jason answered.

"What?" Cordelia asked incredulously.

"Also," Spinelli interjected. "Paul Wade was in the same unit as the man who came home - who has been disproved of being Cooper Barrett."

Cordelia scoffed while looking half-amused and half-annoyed. "What?" Jason asked before Rex could.

"Paul Wade is the youngest son of Congressman Robert Wade. He's a Park Avenue trust fund brat. There's no way his father would let him anywhere near armed combat."

"He's doing community service at General Hospital if you want to go pay him a visit," Rex offered, and he eagerly wanted to go as well.

"What's your connection to Paul Wade?" Jason asked when Cordelia ran to her side of the room to grab her shoulder holster and jacket. Jason could sense a change in her when his name was mentioned.

"He's the prick who helped my sister with her addiction to drugs," Cordelia revealed with a clenched jaw. "He was her supplier."

The rage in her eyes touched something inside of him. He could see her spinning out of control with the news about someone having surgery to look like her friend. Jason deduced that she must have cared for the real Cooper a great deal. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder reassuringly. Hoping the gesture would mean something to her. He couldn't begin to understand why he wanted her to cling to him, but couldn't stop himself.

Rex watched them carefully, wondering if the jealousy shone in his eyes as brightly as he thought. He couldn't be certain if it were romantic jealousy (he hoped not) or if it were the fact that there was someone else Cordelia chose to rely on.

John walked in quietly and shared a glance with Rex while Jason dropped his hand from the woman's shoulder and the two of them communicated silently. "I've got news," John announcing, demanding the attention of all.

"Us, too," Cordelia said, and had John wondering if the us now included Jason. "We're going to pay a drug-dealing son of a bitch a visit at the hospital. I'm sure his case worker didn't know they were putting a drug runner in a hospital."

"You're going to want to hold off on that, babe," McBain said, he looked twice at the screen when he saw Spinelli's head moving. The teenager waving at the FBI agent had John shaking his head.

"Why?" Cordelia asked, properly intrigued.

"Because I pulled some strings with Commissioner Scorpio and you get to talk to Johnny Zacharra about what's been going on in that warehouse." Cordelia's eyes lit up with excitement as a smile grew across her pink lips. "He's even cleared Morgan." John tipped his chin to the enforcer standing behind Cordelia.

"How'd you manage that?" Rex asked, curious about John's tactics.

"That," He leveled Rex with a look. "Is not important." He said it in such a way that Rex was certain that it _was_ important.

The three of them stood in quiet reverie of John's powers of persuasion until Jason spoke up. "I don't think I should go."

"Why not?" Cordelia asked, turning to face him.

The look he gave her almost stopped her heart. "I wouldn't be any help. Johnny's not going to say anything if I'm there."

"He will if he doesn't know you're there," Cordelia said before revealing the rest of her plan. "I think you'll be a big help. You know him better than the three of us. You can tell me about his little physical nuances that I wouldn't be able to pick up on. Like if he fidgets when nervous or does something when he's lying. Something behavioral that I can use to get into his head."

Rex handed him an earpiece and a small pin to hide in his collar that would serve as the microphone. By accepting them, Jason offered his help. "Keep working," he told Spinelli before Rex grabbed the laptop off the desk.

"That's great work, Damien," Cordelia complimented the tech-wizard before Rex closed the link and they all headed out the door.


	15. Chapter 14

_Chapter Fourteen, __Alarm Call_:

Alexis Davis loved the legal justice system. She can remember reading mountains of books in her solitude on her family's island in Greece as a way to escape the horrible treatment she was forced to endure. Having worked in the legal justice system for most of her adult life, she's grown accustomed to its magnificence… and at times, its failures. She couldn't say that her faith hadn't been tested… it surely had (and recently matter-of-factly) but she'd never experienced anything that would make her want to give up a near twenty-year career.

That was until she looked over the police reports dropped on her desk this morning. Thirteen dead, several wounded, two separate shoot-outs and one warehouse explosion. Alexis sighed heavily pulling her square-framed glasses off and tossing them atop the open file on her desk. One warehouse explosion that could have killed the father of her child.

Sonny Corinthos was a very many thing. Egotistical, impulsive, sultry, charming… sometimes he was all those things in the same moment. Alexis had never met a more infuriating person (and that was saying something considering the family she was in) than Sonny and it bothered her that his very near death didn't bother her as much as it should have. Some saying about the company you keep kept playing in her mind, and she realized that Sonny made his own choices. She wasn't his attorney anymore… she didn't have to protect him.

She was, however, the District Attorney and as such, had a responsibility to protect the citizens on this city to the best of her ability. Shaking off the unpleasantness, she put her glass back on and went on with her work.

This was obviously the start of a very bloody mob war, and she was determined to stop it at all costs. Innocent lives could be at stake (she couldn't muster a single shred of propriety for the criminals involved) and she couldn't let innocent blood be spilt when she had a chance to stop it.

There was a quick knock on the door, and a moment later her ex-husband Ric Lansing was peering inside. Alexis felt a cold shiver run down her spine at the sight of him. Ever since he started to work for that maniacal Anthony Zacharra (who felt no shame in threatening the lives of two innocent children) she's felt very on edge around him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, making known her annoyance while. "A little pre-emptive strike?" she asked as he strode further into the room.

Unsurprisingly, Ric immediately launched into a tirade aimed at protecting the Zacharra family. He went on and on about how Anthony has been incapacitated for months and only became sporadically lucid a few days ago.

"An assault of this magnitude takes planning. Immense planning, and there is no way my client could have done that… unless he has someone on the payroll at Ferncliff." That smirk Alexis used to find so charming was utterly repugnant at the moment. And she knew she would be granted great satisfaction in wiping it off his face.

"That may very well be the case, Ric. Anthony Zacharra is a very resourceful man and just as dangerous lucid as he is incapacitated. As for the assaults taking place against the Corinthos organization, a few of Zacharra's men have been brought into the morgue. Surely you won't have me believe that they were just… passing through?"

Ric's smirk lessened but didn't vanish completely. "Believe what you want, Counselor, but understand me when I tell you that Mr. Zacharra had nothing to do with the attacks last night. He's been most graciously compliant with the law and its officials since his son's unjust arrest."

"Duly noted, Counselor," Alexis said, feigning satisfaction. "Then by all means he's not guilty. Good thing you came down here to assuage my doubts of his involvement. Now, I can stop any and all investigation."

"Be serious, Alexis," Ric said, his smirk finally gone.

Alexis leaned forward in her chair, leveling Ric with a cold stare. "I will be when you are. You came down here to plead the case of a homicidal maniac who has threatened the life of not only your niece but your own daughter. An action that I have yet to decide is asinine or simply suicidal."

"This is not about us or me."

"You're right. It's about Anthony, and as of three minutes ago when you came in the office, he hadn't been arrested or formally charged with anything. So… now I begin to wonder why the theatrics? Why are you pleading his case so strongly?"

"Because he is innocent,"

"So you say," Alexis leaned back, staring at Ric and wondering what she ever saw in him. "Go away, Ric and leave me to do my investigation."

"I want your word that it will be a fair investigation," Ric demanded. "His mental and medical history are to have no bearings on this."

It was Alexis' turn to smirk. "Believe me, Ric, if the police find anything, Anthony's mental history will be the least of his worries… and yours."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I will prosecute him and anyone else to the full extent of the law. If innocent blood is shed in this, there will be no deals, no bargains, no anything… except justice. That goes for anyone involved." The fire that burned in the lady-lawyer's eyes was almost palpable. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm very busy."

She went back to looking at the files and ignoring Ric's presence until he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. She looked up when he left, wondering what he was trying to hide for the Zacharra's in the first place. Having gone up against him in court enough, Alexis knew Ric's style and this wasn't it. If anything, his little show on how Anthony was innocent only made her more certain to take a look in his direction.

She picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Hi, this is DA Davis. Can you have someone bring John Zacharra to the interrogation room, and inform his counsel. I have a few questions to ask him."

Silently deciding to let him fret a little, Alexis went back to looking at the pictures in the reports on the warehouse. Taggert had explained to her that the warehouse was under police surveillance on the grounds of illegal trafficking, but wasn't sure what kind. All of the pictures seemed standard, minus a few. There seemed to be a multitude of women in one of them, all of whom Alexis didn't know. She reached one picture that caught her attention. Cooper Barrett was staring her in the face. She checked the date and couldn't understand how there could be a picture of him alive in that warehouse when he wasn't. She made a mental note to ask Taggert about it and find out who took the pictures when another caught her attention. Her daughter Samantha was standing in the middle of the warehouse talking to a menacing looking man… and Jerry Jacks was standing in the background watching.

Alexis wasted no time in picking up the phone to call Sam. To her surprise, her voice was even and collected when her daughter picked up. "Sam, hi, it's Mom. I need to see you, sweetheart, as soon as possible."

Alexis hung up the phone vowing to get to the bottom of this.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sam hung up the phone with a look of discontent. Lucky met her gaze when she walked back into his hospital room. "It was my mother," she told him softly. "She wants to meet with me about something."

"Did she say what?" Lucky wanted to know.

"No, but from the way she was trying to convince me everything was okay…. everything isn't." She sat down on the bed beside him and reached for his hand. Lucky absently began to rub the back of her hand with his thumb. Something Sam secretly found comforting. She couldn't face how close she'd come to losing him last night (twice from the story he was telling her). Their relationship started in the most terrible of ways but had developed into something she wouldn't trade for the world.

"Maybe she found about you moonlighting as a dock hand to try and find out about those drugs," Lucky posed, not at all covering his feelings about what she was doing.

"Lucky," Sam chided him before he could continue. She sighed. "I hope not. She'd just worry."

"She's your mother. That's what they do." The sadness in his eyes at losing his mother again recently shone brightly. Sam brought his hands to her lips and kissed it lightly, bringing a small smile to his features.

"Tell me more about this trafficking," she told him. A serious look darkened her eyes and Lucky knew immediately what was running through her head.

"Oh, no," he said. "I'm not telling you this so you can go and get involved."

"Why not?" she asked indignantly. "I'm already down there to find out about the illegal drugs; if I know what I'm looking for in this, I can help."

"No, Sam," Lucky was adamant. "This is… this is dangerous."

"Lucky." For some reason, Sam got the feeling Lucky knew more than he was saying. Something about the way his hand gripped hers tighter. She could see the fear in his eyes that she was going to do something impulsive. "I can help," she pleaded, hating that he was trying to shut her out.

"No, I mean it. I'm only telling you so that you can be careful. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." He raised a tender hand to her cheek.

"What's going on?" She wanted to know. "You said Jason, some woman, and a FBI agent saved you last night when someone tried to kill you here. Are they connected? Your shooting and the second attempt?"

"Yeah," Lucky nodded and dropped his hand. "Both attempts and the trafficking are connected. Even the explosion at the warehouse."

He leaned back and told her the entire story. All of it as far as he understood about Cordelia's sister being missing and turning up in the warehouse. He told her about the women he'd seen and… even with as much as he told her, he couldn't bring himself to tell her the entire truth. Couldn't tell her the horrors he'd seen.

"Well, it has to involve Sonny if Jason's involved," Sam deduced. Sam thought on the prospect of Sonny being involved and wasn't surprised at the notion. Sonny was very secretive when it came to his business, and even more blatant in his ideas of disrespect. Perhaps he was purposely moving shipments through Zacharra territory.

Lucky thought about that for a moment, remembering Mac telling him that Cordelia and John were investigating a kidnapping. Cordelia said that Jason was helping her. He made no mentions of Sonny at all. He seemed touched that Cordelia stood up for him at all. Even though John was upset by it.

"Lucky, is Sonny involved?" Sam asked, quietly breaking his reverie.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I don't know who is involved other than a man who was supposed to be dead."

Sam looked at him confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Cooper," Lucky said softly. "He's alive."

"What?!" He heard, but it didn't come from Sam.

Lucky and Sam looked to the open door and found his sister standing there. The blonde teenager's mouth agape as she stared at the two adults. "What did you say?" Lulu Spencer asked slowly. "Cooper's alive?"

Sam and Lucky shared a look and Lucky asked his sister to come inside the room. His sister was at the foot of his bed in two quick stride, her arms folded over her chest defensively. She waited impatiently for him to speak, and Lucky told her only the bare essence of what he told Sam. That he was photographed in the warehouse about a month back then disappeared.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Lulu demanded to know. "It can save Johnny, Lucky. He doesn't deserve to rot in jail."

"Because I don't even know if it is him and it's part of an investigation," Lucky answered, a bit tired of his sister's attitude.

"Would that be the investigation into my innocent boyfriend?" She questioned. "Does Cooper have anything to do with why you arrested Johnny?"

Lucky rolled his eyes. "Not everything has to do with Johnny, Lu," he told her. "And I can't tell you anything. I've already told you too much as it is. You can't say a word about this to anyone."

"You had no problem telling your little girlfriend everything. Did you have her make the same promise?" Lulu cut her eyes to Sam. Sam knew the girl didn't like her on account of Elizabeth, and the feeling was mutual. The only reason Sam didn't give her a piece of her mind was because of Lucky.

"This has nothing to do with Sam," Lucky said, knowing she was only mad because she couldn't get any information on Johnny.

"You can't trust her, Lucky," Lulu spat. "She's already proven that. She's probably going to go and tell Jason as soon as she leaves here. Not that you care. You're probably hoping he does something to Johnny just so you don't have to."

"Okay, that's enough!" Sam yelled. "You want to attack me, fine, but you will not disrespect your brother in front of me."

"Sam," Lucky tried to intervene, but the brunette at his side wouldn't hear anymore. She moved from his side to stand in front of Lulu.

"You are a spoiled, ungrateful little ingrate who can't appreciate the sacrifices her brothers make for her on a daily basis." Sam pointed to Lucky, her voice taking a low, lethal tone when she continued. "He and Nikolas bend over backwards to make you happy. They provide you with everything you could possibly want or ever need and you piss all over them. For what? For Johnny? Take it from somebody who knows, little girl, boyfriends come and go." She took ten calming breaths before speaking again. Lucky, though flattered she spoke up for him, wondered where this tirade was coming from. He knew his sister could push Sam's buttons, but this seemed a bit deeper than annoyance. Lulu surprisingly remained quiet. "Now, your brother is obviously trying to protect you from something, and you, being the stupid brat you are, didn't even notice."

"Who do you think you are?" Lulu asked. She looked at her brother, expecting him to say something. When he didn't, she grew angrier. "Are you going to let her talk to me like that?"

"She has a point," Lucky said.

"Fine," Lulu said with quiet indignation. "I'm leaving then since you're going to let your slut of a girlfriend run your sister off."

Sam's hand struck faster than she anticipated. Lulu clutched her cheek as Lucky moved off the bed to stand between them. "Leave then, but this slut of a girlfriend won't let you walk all over your brother anymore; and the next time you come to this room, you better ask your brother how he is feeling before another word comes out of your mouth."

Lulu stormed out of the room as if fire were under her every step. Lucky turned to Sam, who immediately went into a tirade.

"You can be mad all you want, but she deserved it. You and Nikolas treat her like a princess and she walks all over you. I'm tired of it." She would have said more but Lucky pulled her to him and kiss her soundly. Sam pulled away breathlessly. "I thought you'd be mad."

"How can I be mad at you for defending me?"

"Because I slapped your sister," she said and a wicked smile crossed her lips. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," Lucky told her. "Lulu wants to be grown…" He caressed her face. "I'm just worried about her telling someone else Cooper is alive."

"She can't possibly be that foolish."

Lucky shrugged and sighed in contemplation. "I don't know. If she thinks it will help Johnny… I think she'd do anything to help him."

Sam didn't want to ask about the implications of that statement. She just hoped that whatever damage Lulu did… could be undone.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen, Hide Your Eyes, Hide Your Voice:**

The foursome walking into the police department in the late hours of morning would have gone unnoticed had Jason not been a part of the group. The blond enforcer felt the eyes of the assembled officers as soon as they stepped inside. The rest of his party noticed but disregarded the officers as they hoped to be. Jason, however, knew the thoughts running through every officer's mind: He belonged dead or in prison.

He couldn't deny the verity in their thoughts, or escape the fact that he often felt the same way. He often felt, oddly enough, that he and Sonny sometimes deserved the misery they lived in. That they never deserved to be happy. That was their penance for the suffering they inflicted on others. Innocent people's lives would never be the same because of them.

Cordelia felt Jason tense and followed his line of sight. In the interrogation room sat three people. An older looking man stood behind a petulant looking young man. She couldn't see the face of the woman in the room, but that didn't matter.

"Is that him?" She asked Jason quietly. She caught the eye of a passing officer, "You seem to be really popular with the local law enforcement," she joked.

Jason scoffed but otherwise ignored her statement. "That's Johnny," he answered. "The guy behind him is Trevor Lansing and the woman is the district attorney - Alexis Davis." He knew that all three of them were familiar with the names so he went back to his silence.

"Where's the Commissioner?" Rex wanted to know, and on cue, Mac came around the corner.

The older man looked between the unlikely comrades, his eyes lingering on Jason longer than the others. He stepped closer to them, not wanting the other officers to hear what he was about to say. "I'm going to allow you to speak with Johnny without counsel, so you're going to have to wait until DA Davis has finished her questioning," Mac said, talking to Cordelia more than the others.

"Thank you for this," Cordelia said sincerely. She knew how much trouble he could get into if anyone found out about this.

Mac nodded. "I told you I'd help you any way I could," he reminded her. "But I do have one thing to ask. I know that I said Morgan," His eyes landed on Jason, and all of them knew what Mac was going to say.

"Don't worry," Jason said before anyone else could speak. "I won't be in the room." He knew that Mac would have the hardest time explaining to his subordinates why Jason was allowed in the room.

The older man looked surprised to hear that, but didn't vocalize his feelings. "Commissioner," John began, bring the attention to him. "What is the nature of the DA's investigation?" he asked.

"He was arrested on charges of illegal trafficking," Mac answered. "I would assume that and the explosion of his family's warehouse and the deadly mob attacks are among her top questions. Speaking of that," He pulled a folder out of the brown briefcase he carried and handed it to Cordelia. "The report on the warehouse."

"Is this the original," she asked.

"A copy," he said. "DA Davis received the original this morning from my Chief of Detectives."

Jason rolled his eyes at the mention of the man Mac spoke of. He'd been lucky enough to not have had to deal with him when they came in. He was certain the man was at the hospital harassing Sonny. It seemed to be his favorite pastime.

"Thank you," Cordelia said. "Again…" her voice trailed off, but Mac understood.

"I'm going to go see if I can run them along… somehow," he told the foursome. He knew Jason understood that statement. Alexis and Trevor were legal sharks and any fight between them would be long and drawn-out. Neither one would ever accept defeat.

He walked away, leaving the foursome to talk amongst themselves, to go inside the interrogation room. The mood in there a direct contrast to the unlikely foursome hovering outside. Alexis sat leaned back in the chair closest to the door; the slit in her black skirt revealing a healthy dose of leg as she crossed one over the other. Her lips pursed together in a way that told Mac she was upset but trying not to let it show. She held herself in that regal way that screamed Cassadine.

"Mr. Lansing, if I were you, I would advise my client to start cooperating," she told the older man standing across from her. In response, Trevor gripped Johnny's shoulders tightly and gave Alexis a tight smile.

"Miss Davis, my client's silence is not an attempt to not cooperate. He simply doesn't know anything. How could he? He's been in lock-up while the attacks against the Corinthos organization have been happening. He's no more responsible than his father."

"Please," Alexis interjected, holding up a hand. "I've heard that already from your second counsel." She uncrossed her legs, tossing a glance at Mac before standing up. "You may have been locked up," she started to address Johnny. "But that doesn't make you any less culpable. I'm most certain this is your father's attempt at retribution for your arrest, but it will not work."

"That's projection, Counselor," Trevor reminded her smugly. "You have no proof and I will thank you to stop these heinous accusations before I'm forced to file and injunction against you with the mayor."

The irate lady looked up into the older man's eyes briefly before returning her gaze to the sullen young man before her. "When you return to your cell, think about the carnage that your father is leaving in your wake. Think about the innocent people living in fear out there because of you." She stood erect, gathered her files and left without another look at them. Mac stepped outside after her, leaving the door opened. Trevor lingered inside talking to Johnny.

Alexis took two steps outside the interrogation room, chattering away at Mac, when her eyes landed on Jason. Her eyes narrowed and flared as she wrestled with her emotions. Cordelia, John and Rex were a few steps away looking through the file discreetly, but Jason knew Alexis didn't notice them.

"Mr. Morgan," she called him while walking towards him. "Are you here to… shed some light on last night's events?" Jason stood there mechanically, silently. He could tell Alexis was upset by the look in her eyes. Her tone betrayed her true feelings as well, but she was far to proud a woman to let them get the better of her. "Am I to take from your silence that you…" A cold smile crept along her mouth. She shook the hair out of her face, an action she only did when she was annoyed. "That… you… don't have a comment?"

"I know that my ports were attacked last night, yes. And that the Zacharra's warehouse was blown up."

"I'm sure you do know that, Mr. Morgan. Can you offer any insight on your part or your employer's part as to why?"

"I don't know why my ports were attacked, Miss Davis," Jason answered. "And I'm sure Sonny doesn't either but you're more than welcomed to ask him. I'm sure he's looking for answers as well."

Alexis' eyes narrowed again, and her mouth parted slightly in anger. "When you… find those answers… would it be too much to ask for you to… not… murder everyone in sight?"

Before Jason could answer, a voice rang out behind him. A voice he really didn't wish to hear. "I think that's asking too much of Angerboy," said Marcus Taggert. "That's his style - murder." The Chief of Detectives walked up to them, standing at Alexis' side and glaring at Jason. "Isn't it, Angerboy?"

Jason turned to walk away, but Alexis' hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Jason whipped around, properly annoyed now, and Taggert stepped closer. "I know you know something." She looked into his blue eyes. "Please…"

"Why don't you do something right for once in your miserable life and come clean, Morgan. It's only a matter of time before I find something to tie those bodies in the morgue to you anyway, and then you and Sonny will pay for all the hell you've created." Taggert goaded the enforcer, pushing his buttons the way only a true adversary could. Alexis stood there between the two men with her arms folded.

Jason stood in front of the two people who caused him more grief than any others. He wouldn't tell them anything, they knew that, and yet they hounded him anyway. Taggert, especially, seemed to enjoy it. Alexis, Jason knew, had a job to do. They both had something to prove, but only Alexis was truthfully interested in justice. Taggert just wanted to pay Sonny back for killing his mentor, and throwing Jason in jail was just an added bonus.

Still, coming clean weighed heavily on Jason's conscience. It wasn't until Cordelia spoke did he realize she was standing beside him.

"Is Mr. Morgan under arrest?" she asked, her tone even and resigned.

Alexis and Taggert regarded her almost in the same way they regarded Jason. "No," Alexis answered after a moment, clearly wondering who the tiny woman in jeans and a tee-shirt was. "I'm simply asking a private citizen a few questions."

"Didn't sound that way," Cordelia claimed. "Sounded as though this gentleman here was already judge and jury." She looked at Taggert coldly, but her smile was charming. "So," she began again. "Are you planning to arrest him?"

"No," Alexis answered after sharing a look with Taggert. "Not right this moment. The immediate future remains to be seen, however."

"So then he doesn't have to answer your questions or put up with your harassment," Cordelia posed, but it really wasn't a question.

"Are you Mr. Morgan's counsel?" Alexis asked. She looked at Jason. "Diane's unavailable?"

"No, I'm not," Cordelia answered. "I'm a journalist with the New York Times and my editor and readers just love stories about how the police in the country harass everyday citizens."

Taggert scoffed loudly. "I don't know what he's told you, Miss…" He trailed off for her to tell them her name, but Cordelia remained quiet. "But he's far from being an ordinary citizen. He's an ordinary criminal."

Cordelia felt Jason's anger coursing through him even from where she stood. His jaw clenched tightly and the veins in his neck became visible. "Whatever he is… he has rights. And if you violate those, I just might file a complaint against this department as well as expose the treatment in the Times. I wonder how your mayor would feel about that, Detective Taggert." The surprise that came to Taggert's face when she said his name was priceless to Jason. His face turned almost as red as the shirt he was wearing. "How do you think he'll respond, DA Davis?"

Knowing when to retreat from battle, Alexis looked at Jason before walking away with Mac. Taggert, however, did not know when to leave. "You know, Angerboy, one day you won't have someone around to fight your battles for you. And when that day comes…"

"Today's not that day," Cordelia interjected. Taggert gave her a half-nod before smirking at Jason and walking away as well.

Jason waited until both were out of earshot before he spoke to Cordelia. "Thanks," he said sheepishly. His blue eyes caught hers and locked. He found he could never escape her gaze, even if he wanted to. There was something in her eyes, something in the way she looked at him that held him firmly in place.

"Don't mention it," she told him quietly. "They were beginning to bother me."

Jason smiled a little. "You've definitely left an impression on Taggert. He won't be forgetting this anytime soon."

"I would expect not," she said. "It's not everyday the Chief of Detectives gets railroaded by a woman." She glanced out the corner of her eyes briefly. "Go with me," she said in a whisper before flinging him into a chair. "You're not leaving here until you answer my questions," she said loudly. John and Rex looked up in confusion. "I want to know about the shoot-out," she continued, following someone walking behind her with sneaky glances. Jason caught Trevor's broad smile as he walked past and realized that Cordelia saved him from having to deal with him; she also saved herself from being recognized as the woman on the docks. Trevor wouldn't be obvious enough to walk over and ask questions, and Cordelia could have been a dressed down detective.

"That was a wonderful performance," Rex joked when Trevor walked out the door. "Brava," he deadpanned while moving from the desk.

"Yeah," John said absently. "For a second I thought…" He looked over at the open door. Mac, who'd broken away from Alexis, signaled to him. "The room is clear."

Cordelia looked over her shoulder then back at Jason. "Sorry. That seemed the best way to get him to ignore us."

"It worked," Jason replied, standing to meet her. He admired her quick thinking.

"Ready?" she asked him as all of them moved toward the interrogation room.

"Yeah," he answered truthfully. He knew what she was looking for, and having spent enough time watching Johnny, he was sure he could tell her what she needed to know.

"Great," Rex said as he pushed against Jason's collar to check the microphone. "Just speak normally and they should be able to hear you."

Cordelia and Jason shared a look. And once again, something in her eyes called to him; but this time, Jason realized she felt it, too. She was just as shaken by it as he was, and he realized what it was that held them so: Trust. They trusted each other. Odd for both that it happened so quickly, but it was there and it was real. So real that Jason felt they could almost hear each other's thoughts.

Rex managed to keep his feelings at bay while watching them, and John pretended not to notice. The private investigator handed Cordelia a manila folder and mumbled something Jason couldn't quite hear. Whatever it was, it made Cordelia smile. She touched Rex's face lovingly before asking him about her microphone. Rex went to sit at the desk outside the door with his laptop and nodded.

Cordelia and John checked their ear-pieces and went inside, closing the door softly behind them.

They found Johnny seated behind the table much in the way he was before. He still had a petulant frown on his face, and his eyes were full of anger. He looked up at John and Cordelia with resignation.

Cordelia sat in the chair Alexis previously occupied while John stood off to the side next to Mac. She sat there like a prosecutor would, calm and collected, while opening the file Rex handed to her.

Johnny was the first to speak. "What's going on?" His eyes went nervously between the three adults.

Cordelia didn't answer, instead she pulled out a photograph of her sister and pushed it in front of him. "Her name is Annalise," she began softly. "She's been missing for seven months and was last seen in warehouse belonging to your family about a month ago."

Johnny looked up at Cordelia with minor recognition in his eyes. Something Jason relayed to her. Cordelia didn't need Jason to tell her that Johnny was trying desperately not to look at the picture again. She pulled out the photograph of Annalise with the Cooper look-alike and pushed that in front of him.

"She's twenty-one years old… and all alone," the reporter continued. She kept the anger and frustration out of her voice as best she could. "Have you seen her before?"

"No," Johnny answered softly, a lie that Jason picked up on.

"You're lying," Cordelia said. "Why were you arrested?"

Johnny looked to Mac incredulously. "What the hell is going on here?" He demanded to know. "I'm not answering your questions, lady, until my lawyer is here."

"Look at the picture," Cordelia tried to interject, but John kept rambling over her. "Look at it!" she commanded. She expected his silence but found his attitude unbearable. How could he sit there silently when lives were at stake? She pointed hard at the girl. "She's… missing. She's my sister and I'm all she has in the world…. And she's missing. I don't care who you are or what you've done or even who your family is. I don't care. I just care about my sister… and I know that you can help me."

Johnny remained silent but looked at the picture again. Jason could see him through the glass and noted the look in his eyes. He'd seen it before. It was as if Johnny was picturing his sister Claudia, instead of Annalise. He relayed that to Cordelia.

"I know you have a sister," she told him. "Older sister… Claudia." Johnny raised his eyes to meet hers. "Wouldn't you do anything you could to protect her? To save her when you know she's in harm's way?" Johnny diverted his eyes, telling all of them what they didn't know. "You're protecting her now, aren't you?" She sighed softly, sensing the truth in her statement. "Claudia knows something, doesn't she?"

"I'm not answering your questions," Johnny reiterated with tears in his eyes.

"Fine, I'll just go up to Crimson Pointe and ask her myself," she bluffed. She pulled the pictures back and stuffed them in the folder and stood. John moved toward the door with her and Johnny, visible shaken, yelled out.

"Stop!" His voice trembled. "You can't. Please." He sighs deeply, shivering a bit. "You can't talk to Claudia."

"Give me a reason not to," Cordelia told him in a soft, soothing voice. "Tell me what you're protecting her from."

"Trevor," Johnny answered. His voice was but a soft timber. "Claudia found out about something Trevor was doing."

"Down at the docks?" John asked, speaking for the first time since entering the room.

Johnny looked up at him and nodded. "She was there… a month ago and saw… something."

"What?"

"She saw five or six armed men and about seven or eight women. She said one of the women was being… raped while the others were forced into one of those large metal crates."

Cordelia felt her heart sink into the floor. The fire and rage she'd been feeling was all but extinguished now. Surrounded now by a sea of wretchedness. Her stomach churned and she felt sick, but she forced herself to move. John reached out to her, holding her steady even as his own stomach turned violently. The hardened FBI agent had to fight every urge in his body to cause Johnny bodily harm. Years of working at the Bureau had taught him to deal with any situation with a cool head, but this shook him to his core. Not just because he knew Annalise, or that he considered Cordelia family, but because there were some evils he would never be able to stomach. Mac looked as though the wind had been knocked out of his chest. He had two young daughters that lived in this town. Maxie dated Cooper. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe. The thought that this could have happened to his daughter terrified him.

For his part, Johnny did look like they did. The burden of carrying that news weighed heavily on his conscience, but protecting his sister was something he would never compromise.

"Why didn't she say anything? Why didn't you?" Cordelia demanded to know. "Why didn't she help them?"

"She wanted to," Johnny declared. "She was going to leave when she noticed Trevor talking with another man. Him," He pointed to Cooper. "Said she recognized him and gasped and was overheard. She escaped but Trevor assumed it was her anyway because he wants her dead. He came home that night and threatened her… vaguely. I sent him away but stayed close to her after that."

"You fucking little wretch!" Cordelia spat at him. She charged for him, but John grabbed her firmly around the waist and Mac stepped between them. Johnny jumped up from his seat and back against the wall. "You both knew those women had been trafficked and you didn't even try to help them! You fucking bastard!"

"Cordelia, calm down!" John commanded. He set her down on her feet and forced her to look in his eyes.

"I had to protect my sister!" Johnny declared with a hoarse yell. "I didn't know what else to do!" Mac grabbed him by the collar and yanked him hard, sitting him down in the chair. John mumbled something to Cordelia who turned her back to them for a minute.

"That's why she was meeting with Sonny Corinthos last night," John said. He'd dropped his hold on Cordelia, but stayed close to her. "She wanted Sonny to protect her?"

Johnny again nodded. "She was going to build an alliance with Sonny. Try to get him to get Trevor out of the way."

"Why didn't she just go to your father?" Cordelia asked, having calmed down enough to face him. The murderous look in her eyes was no less potent than the venom she felt creeping in her veins. Unclean feelings pricked at the base of her spine but she forced them away.

"She tried that, but he's… he's from a different era. He doesn't think women should be a part of the business and anything Claudia said about Trevor, our father would see as her trying to find a way into the business. He thinks if Claudia gets Trevor out of the way, she'll try to take the business from me." Johnny swallowed hard before speaking his next words. "Claudia's disposable to my father. I'm his legacy."

"She's disposable because she's a woman?" Cordelia found the words left a disgusting taste on her tongue.

"No, because she's her mother's daughter," Johnny replied cryptically. He took a moment to compose himself as did the rest of them. The ghosts they chased turned out to be demons. It was a very long pause that lingered in the room before Johnny spoke again. "I got arrested to take some of the heat off of her. Trevor's out for her blood but as long as I need protecting, my father will make sure he's focus is away from Claudia."

Cordelia sneered at Johnny's twisted sense of nobility. She wanted to jump across the table and smash his little head into the metal until no one would ever recognize him. The hate that began to build in her gut forced the nausea away but left little room for her to feel anything else. Her sister had been trafficked in a sex ring and could be anywhere in the world by now. She clutched her forehead when she felt the beginning pains of a headache coming on strong.

John grabbed her, hoping his touch would keep her from having an episode. "You turned yourself in?" he asked.

"I called Lucky Spencer and we came up with this. I get arrested to take some heat off Claudia and he in turn keeps an eye on her while getting information on Trevor." He shrugged helplessly. "We had to get help outside the family." His face and shoulders fell dejectedly. "I didn't know what else to do."

"You could have been a decent human being," Cordelia said. Unable to stomach anymore, she yanked the door open and walked outside. Rex was the first to meet her. He opened his arm and pulled her close. Allowing her to bury her face in his neck to find solace. His heart broke with her. He loved Anna, too.

John walked out and closed the door. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. He'd witnessed first hand what the news did to Cordelia and it was all he could do to stop himself from vomiting. Jason looked at him speechlessly. He, too, felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. He had a little sister and a wife, and didn't want to imagine them experiencing anything like this. Ever.

John looked at Jason and quickly pulled him to the side, not wanting to interrupt his friend's comfort. "Why do you think Officer Spencer left out his involvement in this last night?" The agent couldn't come up with a reason. He saw no viable reason for Lucky's omission. "At the very least, he could have mentioned the trafficking."

"I don't know," Jason replied, stealing glances as Rex comforted Cordelia. "Maybe he's protecting someone? He's got a kid sister."

"Maybe we should just go and ask him," John said. They both looked over to Cordelia. She'd pulled away from Rex and was staring straight ahead at nothing. They both fought the urge to go and comfort her, knowing in her altered state, she wouldn't allow them. "Cordi," John called to her. When she turned to look at them, they both were thankful for what they saw in her eyes. She hadn't shifted, she was herself… just dejected. "We should go talk to Officer Spencer again. Find out what else he neglected to tell us."

Cordelia nodded and walked off without waiting for any of them. She was racing against time now. The men who took her sister already had a month's head start, but she vowed to track them down. She vowed to find her sister and rescue her from the pits of hell.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen, Exit to Eden:**

Alexis loved Port Charles. She found its old-town feel refreshing after the years away at boarding school and the too many years she was a prisoner on her family's island. The citizens (a vast majority) were friendly, the town itself was beautiful (a little oasis between the big cities), and she felt a sense of ease here that she's never felt anywhere else.

So, for the town that she's come to call home to be marred with civil unrest… she couldn't take that easily. She couldn't back down on the duties she was charged with, the faith the people placed in her was sacred.

Trevor was up to something. Just what, Alexis couldn't say, but she knew the older man well enough to know that he was lying. Mostly everything he said was a lie, so that assumption wasn't too far off. Still, something in the way Johnny responded to Trevor made Alexis think something was wrong. She knew the two men didn't get along, but for Johnny to sit so despondently in Trevor's presence…

The ensuing issues on the dock, however, was Alexis' main concern. That seemed to be the basis for the mob attacks, apart from the fact that all parties involved were homicidal maniacs. Glancing at the picture on her desk, she wondered what her daughter was doing involved with these men. Rather, how involved Sam already was.

It was no secret that Alexis detested the life Sam used to lead. A side attachment for Jason Morgan, who treated her as little more than decoration when the mood suited him. Sam walking away from that life was a feat Alexis thought her daughter would never make. Yet she had. She'd walked away and found love with Lucky Spencer (who was vastly different from his father Luke - a whole other story unto itself) and seemed to be heading in the right direction in her life.

Honing in to her mother's thoughts, Sam walked inside the office. "You've got that 'Oh, God what has Sam done now' look on your face," she said in regard to her mother's pensive expression.

Alexis looked up and forced a pleasant smile on her face. "Come in and close the door, Sam," Alexis said softly. She stood from her seat and walked around the desk to greet her daughter. When Sam drew close enough, Alexis pulled her into a tight embrace. A shaky breath escaped her lips and Sam feared for the worst.

"What's wrong?" the short brunette asked. Her mind was already coming up with various ghastly scenarios. "What is it? Did the cancer come back?"

Alexis pulled away and laughed a little at her display of emotions. Sam looked into her face bewildered, unable to read her mother's mood at the moment. "No, no," Alexis assured the young woman. "No, I'm fine. I'm…" she touched Sam's face lovingly. "I'm fine."

"When I came in and you hugged me, I thought…" Sam exhaled sharply. "If you're okay, what's going on?" Alexis pulled away and sat on the edge of her desk. Sam stood back as well when Alexis leaned over the desk a little to pick something up. "I was going through the report Taggert and Lucky compiled on the Zacharra's warehouse and I came across this." She handed Sam the black and white photograph. Sam looked at herself and the Zacharra's head of shipping on the docks and noticed Jerry in the background.

Jerry Jacks was a dreadful bastard who terrorized Sam and many people when he took the Metro Court hostage. She loathed him more than she ever thought possible, and to have him trying to develop a relationship with her mother was something Sam couldn't tolerate. Alexis had been adamant in her refusal to date Jerry, but Sam knew how relentless the bastard could be. That was one of the many reasons why she was working to bring him down.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Alexis asked when it became clear her daughter wasn't going to say anything.

Sam opened her mouth and a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh came out. "I can tell you it's not what it looks like."

"You look like you're talking to someone who is under police investigation," Alexis pointed out. "And since you're in more than one photo, I can be sure this wasn't just a coincidence." She sighed and made a helpless gesture with her hands. "What's going on?"

Sam considered for a moment lying to her mother. She couldn't see Alexis handling the truth very well. "I'm working a case," Sam revealed.

"A case? What case?" A curious thought struck the lady lawyer. "Sam, are you saying that Lucky has involved you in his investigation?" It was clear from her tone of voice that Alexis wasn't comfortable with that idea. The change in her expression only doubled that.

"No, no," Sam clarified. "Ugh," she exclaimed and ran a hand through her hair. "I've been getting my private investigator's license." She sighed, leveling her mother with a pensive expression all her own. Do you remember when I got hurt and the producers decided to replace me as the host of Everyday Heroes?" Alexis nodded and kept quiet to let Sam continue. "Ian Devlin was my doctor… he wanted me to participate in a clinical trial and take an experimental drug." At Alexis' horrified expression, "I didn't take it, though… but I thought that was odd…and around that time…" She couldn't (didn't want to) continue.

"What?"

Shutting her eyes tightly, Sam decided to proceed forward with the revelations. "Another patient almost died from a lack of medication." Alexis looked confused by let her continue. "Then a week after that, another patient almost died because they hadn't received a critical drug but the nurse was certain she'd given him the proper dosage."

"Okay…" Alexis said slowly, still not seeing the connection.

"I… began to suspect that something was going on, you know. Both patients were Ian Devlin's" She sighed and turned around to pace. "I had Nikolas find out where the drugs were coming from and he traced it to an overseas company that the Zacharra's own."

Alexis' expression went from confused to livid in a few short seconds. "What? Nikolas is involved?"

"It's fine, Mom," Sam assured her. "I only wanted to find out where the drugs were coming from. And Nikolas tried to talk me out of being involved."

Alexis nodded. She was still perturbed by their involvement, but sensed that Sam had yet to reach the most important part of this saga. "I know that I don't have to tell you how dangerous the Zacharras are. And if you were to be caught…" She found she couldn't finish the sentence. "Well, just look what happened to Ian Devlin. Killed by them…"

"I know," Sam replied, cutting her off. "But I'm close to finding something out and that's why Lucky… started to watch the docks in the first place. The shipment comes from a viable company but it's held at the Zacharra's warehouse. I got a job with the dock master to try and figure out if they switch the drugs or taint them or what?"

"So Lucky just willing became a participant in this?"

"He realized he couldn't talk me out of it and figured at least that way he could keep an eye on me."

Alexis let out a breath, she didn't even realize she was holding her breath until that moment. "Sam, this is dangerous. If you get caught…" Alexis again made a help gesture with her hands. "And on the other hand… you could do something illegal and get caught up in the investigation. You don't have your license yet so anything you do won't be admissible in court. _You _could be charged with illegal trafficking." She pushed off the desk and walked to the window.

The silence between the mother-daughter pair was thick with tension. Both women had to admire each other. They were both pig-headed and stubborn and wouldn't relent even an inch.

After a few moments, Alexis said, "How close are you to finding anything?"

"Very close. Lucky thinks his shooting and the explosion at the warehouse was the Zacharra's attempt at covering up whatever they were doing in the warehouse, but they still have the shipments coming in. They might be housing them somewhere else."

Alexis turned to face her daughter. "What's Jerry's involvement?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "He's conducted business with the Zacharra family under the alias of Cesar Moreau. He was working with Devlin to double-cross the Zacharra's when Devlin was killed. Now, what kind of business he has with the Zacharra's, I don't know but…" Sam looked into her mother's eyes and knew what she was thinking. "Jerry's my problem, Mom. I'll deal with him."

Alexis scoffed. "We both know Jerry would inform Anthony Zacharra of who you are or kill you himself on a fancy whim. Sadistic bastard." Alexis shook her head adamantly. "I'll deal with him. He's out of the country. I'll call in a favor…see if his passport can't be flagged and have him detained for a while." As she was speaking, she moved toward her desk and proceeded to look for the number she needed. Sam smiled brightly, but that was lost on her mother who kept speaking. "That should give Lucky enough time to recuperate and pick up where you left off."

"What?" Sam asked, all traces of her smile gone. "Mom, I'm not…"

"You cannot be involved, Sam," Alexis cut her off. "There is something brewing at the docks and I'd really rather not have my daughter as part of the body count." Sam couldn't believe her ears. "I've got Johnny Zacharra in lock-up downstairs. His father has been cooperating so far but that could change. How long do you think it would take him to figure out you're my daughter… especially with Ric working for him? What do you think he'd do to you then?"

"What do you think they'd do to Lucky, who they know is a cop?" Sam shook her head. "What? Are you more comfortable risking his life than mine?"

"No, of course not," Alexis proclaimed. "It can be another officer for all I care. Just not you."

"No, no," Sam was headed toward the door while saying that. "You don't get to control this, Mother. This is my case and I'm going to work it until I can't."

"Sam!" Alexis yelled after her daughter but she was already gone.

Distraught, Alexis fell into her chair with a rather unflattering _plop_. She bit back the tears and the rising sob in her throat, feeling like the air was being pushed out of her lungs and she couldn't breathe. After a few minutes she calmed down enough to think clearly. Her daughter was willingly risking her life, but she just couldn't accept that. It made her want to protect her… anyway she could.

Alexis picked up the phone receiver and hung it up three times before finally dialing a number from memory. It amazed her she remembered the number at all. When the voice she couldn't believe she wanted to hear picked up, she sighed with relief.

"Jason," she said his name in a breathless rush. "It's Alexis… I have a favor to ask."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jason hung up the phone and looked up to see Cordelia gazing at him intensely. The four of them had just left the PCPD when Alexis called him, stopping him dead in his tracks when she asked for his help. He could tell from the older woman's tone of voice that she was mentally chiding herself for calling him, but she was obviously out of other options. Jason knew there was only one reason Alexis would call and ask for his help: Sam was in trouble.

"What was that about?" Cordelia asked quietly from the driver side of her silver Porsche. She didn't look as despondent as before, and Jason was thankful for that (he knew Rex and John were as well). In fact, Cordelia seemed calm and focused, much in the way she was when he first met her.

"That was Alexis," he said softly, though unsure why since John and Rex were in John's rented car. Rex probably grumbling away because Cordelia requested Jason ride with her. Jason knew the other man was jealous of Cordelia's constant campaign for Jason's inclusion, but as her best friend Rex should realize Cordelia only wanted his company because Jason was the only one Cordelia didn't have to explain herself to. She didn't have to answer his questions out of obligation or some sense of camaraderie. "She said she needs my help; she wants me to come see her." He closed the passenger side door that he was about to get into and said, "It sounded important." He left out the part about Sam being involved. "I'm going to go see what she wants and I'll catch up with you at the hospital."

Cordelia stared at Jason, searching his face for something she wasn't quite sure she wanted to find. She didn't want to know if he was lying to her, she'd begun to trust him and his judgment and didn't want to lose that. Surprisingly to her (though she really shouldn't have been) she realized her was telling the truth. She found it amazing that he'd be willing to help the woman at all after the way she looked down on him earlier, but Cordelia was beginning to see that Jason… wasn't an _ordinary_ criminal the way Taggert described him.

Cordelia looked over to the other car, John and Rex watching her intently, and she decided that she just couldn't deal with their unconditional love right now. She felt like she were drowning and having to watch John and Rex worry about her wasn't something she could take right now. She knew she was racing against the clock to find her sister, but she also knew Jason wouldn't just ditch her unless it was important.

"I'd like to go with you, if that's okay?" she asked, sounding a bit shy (something completely unlike her).

Jason looked over his shoulder and then back at her. "They're not going to go away," he told her, knowing she'd know exactly what he meant.

"I know," she replied, shutting the driver side door and heading around her car to the other one.

John rolled down his window and Cordelia leaned inside to let them know she was going to talk to the DA with Jason. She didn't inform them on the subject, since she wasn't sure herself, and turned away before seeing Rex shoot daggers at Jason with his eyes. She faced Jason with a look of vulnerability and desperation, hoping he would understand her desire to be free for just a little while.

The car pulled off a moment later and Cordelia strode up to Jason quickly. Looking up into his handsome face with wide, expressive eyes she said, "You never said it was okay for me to go with you."

Looking down, Jason knew he would never be able to deny her anything. "If you go in there with me, she's going to want to know what's going on." Loose strands of her hair began to blow wildly when the wind picked up. Reaching out tentatively, Jason brushed them out of her face and behind her ear. The touch of her skin against his fingertips was just as arousing as anything he'd ever experienced. The fact that he was Jason Morgan, married mob enforcer, and she was someone other than his wife should have deterred him. He kept hearing John's voice ringing in his ears. _She's amazing,_ the agent had said. Jason was beginning to believe him.

"I know," she replied, her eyes firmly shut. Cordelia knew she should have brushed his hand away, at the very least moved away, but she couldn't deny the minimal comfort he offered; not when she needed it so badly.

"What did Rex say when you told them you were staying with me?" Jason asked, using the exact words he wanted to say. She had chose to stay with him and he wanted to know why.

Cordelia opened her eyes slowly; they caught a sparkle from the sun. "He told me to be careful," she revealed. "John said the same."

"They can't be happy that you decided to stay with me instead of going with them."

"No," she said. Truthfully, they were anything but happy. John at least understood a little. He knew what it was like to have people constantly worried about him when his fiancée was killed. It drove him insane. John also knew Rex would never understand how his constant worry (whether he showed it or not) would only make Cordelia less inclined to talk. His love for her made him blind to her needs sometimes. A small smirk crept across her pink lips. "Do you care?"

Jason shook his head and dropped his hand from her face (an eon after he should have). "No, but you do. You don't need their grief."

Cordelia sighed indifferently, her jaw clenched tightly before saying, "I'm not going to discuss them with you. Whatever they say, I can handle it. I brought you on board, I want you here, I chose to stay with you. End of story."

Jason nodded sagely, realizing this was their first actual conversation that hadn't sprung out of anger or distrust. The fact that they were communicating freely without any type of hindrance wasn't lost on either of them. "Listen," he told her. "I can't imagine what you're feeling." She lowered her eyes, and he felt like a bastard for doing the one thing he knew she didn't want. Still, he wanted her to know he cared. "But I know it hurts. My sister was raped and I…" He swallowed hard. "I know it hurts," he repeated. When she raised her gaze back to him and saw the tears he struggled to contain, she nearly cried, too. "If you want to talk…"

"I know," she told him. Had they been anyone else, she probably would have hugged him, or at least allowed him to hug her, but she just couldn't cross that line again. The comfort he offered was enticing because there were no strings attached, but she just couldn't allow herself to deviate anymore than she already had.

She stepped back, putting some much needed space between them. "We're going to draw more attention to ourselves if we stand out here any longer." Her cell phone began to chirp incessantly. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID: _Fox._ Unwilling to deal with her older brother at the moment, she hit the ignore button and placed the phone back in her pocket. She figured Jason thought it was Rex calling to check in with her, and not wanting to delve into anything more personal, she let him. "We should go see what the DA wants with you," she said quickly and lowered her head and stepped around him, hoping that he didn't touch her anymore. She couldn't even look in his eyes right now since the looks he gave her touched something deep inside her soul.

Jason followed her with his eyes, watching her walk away from him with her emotions weighing her down. He followed after her a moment later, unable to see Trevor driving away after having watched them the entire time.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen, Blind Ambition:**

The sun was high in the noon sky, and a sweet scented breeze blew through the windows of John's rental car as he and Rex drove back to General Hospital. _Pine_, John deduced after trying to figure out the scent that tantalized his senses. The smell was pine, and he hadn't smelled that since he and Caitlyn went camping the year they first started dating. An absent smile twitched the corners of his mouth as the memories of years past swept over him. The smell of the woods, the crunching of the leaves they hikes through - Caitlyn showing him expertly how it was done - the small clearing right in the middle of the ridge where they made camp. No one was around for miles, only them and nature. John could still remember holding Caitlyn close to him after they made love and snuggled in the sleeping bag.

It always amazed him how the simplest things brought him back to those years. A smell, a sound - something - reminded him on Caitlyn. Of the fiancée who still captured his heart. When he closed his eyes at night, sometimes, just for a moment - nothing longer than the time it takes to blink - John could almost swear she was in the bed with him. He could hear her soft breathing while she slept, her body melding into the mattress while a sea of sheets and quilts covered her. He would turn on his side and wrap his arms around her tightly, holding her close to him, feeling their hearts beat in time together. God, he missed her.

He missed everything about her. From the auburn hair that fanned out on his pillows in the morning, to the way she always brightened his day with just a smile. It's been three years since her death… and John can still see that smile.

His side-seat companion typed frantically on the keyboard and John felt the memories slipping away. He let them go, shaking them free like droplets of water. He was never sad anymore when the memories of Caitlyn faded away. A year or two ago and he would have been, but not now. Now, he knew they would come back when he needed them - when he least expected them… because that's how Caitlyn came into his life anyway. She waltzed in and turned his world completely on its head… and everything after that, leading up to her untimely demise was the greatest adventure of his life.

"Shit," Rex mumbled, his blue eyes set with fierce determination. He jabbed a few keys and gave a low growl of frustration.

"Hey, kid," John addressed him. "That's a thousand-dollar laptop you're man-handling over there."

"I'm aware of that, John," Rex muttered through clenched teeth. He didn't spare the other man a glance, instead kept working on his task - trying to find out as much information he could on this trafficking ring.

Unfortunately, he couldn't find anything; and that only angered him more. He was already upset that Cordelia chose to stay behind with that… criminal… instead of coming to the hospital with him and John. And, quite surprisingly, John didn't seem to be bothered by leaving her with that man at all. Rex had half a mind to ask John if he remembered them coming into the motel room after having been shot at on the docks - something he still didn't completely understand himself. If Cordelia wanted answers, she could have gotten them another way. Hell, he'd duplicated every file Spinelli had on his laptop, and even compiled a detailed folder on the Zacharra organization, so he couldn't quite understand what the hell she needed to see Jason Morgan for… or the reasons she had to do it behind his back.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed again for the seventh time in the conversation he was having with himself. He closed the lid of the laptop and stared out the window.

"What?" John asked, albeit tepidly. He glanced at the blond man and smirked unabashedly. He couldn't help himself. Rex often joked that Cordelia was lost without him, though John thought him serious on more than one occasion. John was beginning to realize it was the other way around. Rex was lost without Cordelia.

"I'm trying to find some information on the cannery. Something before Annalise showed up and it changed hands from Lansing to Anthony Zacharra. Something to tie it to what's been going on." He shrugged, seemingly calming down. "Maybe there is something I overlooked the first time."

John's brow furrowed in thought. "Didn't it belong to Lorenzo Alcazar?"

Rex nodded, quickly lifting the lid again to type in some information. "Yes, it did. Then it changed hands to Skye Quartermaine when he 'died'." He made air quotes around the word since not even the FBI could prove that the arms dealer was in fact deceased. "There was something in Spinelli's files about how Skye wanted to do the right thing with what Alcazar left for her in regards to their daughter, and that Lansing tried to convince her to give it to him instead of selling it outright."

"Maybe he didn't want his brother to have it," John supplied.

"Or maybe he did and his father made a compelling case as to why he should have it." Rex's eyebrows rose in question when he looked at John.

"The only way we're going to know that for certain is if we talk to Lansing," John said. From the look he gave, it was evident he didn't want to. There were too many risks involved in talking to Ric. One being that their 'persona non grata' status would be blown. It always was when you started to ask questions. Another risk being his father Trevor would get spooked, inform his son, and Annalise would slip that much farther away.

"Maybe not. There is something here about a Marianna Erosa in here. Maybe we can find her and get some information." John nodded in agreement, not that it mattered much since Rex already had his phone out to call Cordelia. John could hear it ringing, as well as see the frustration returning to Rex's face - his skin going from pale to crimson in a matter of seconds - when Cordelia's voicemail clicked on. "Figures," he muttered when he snapped the phone shut after leaving her a voicemail. John didn't have a chance to respond when Rex immediately called their second technical support person - Archie Stone - and had him try to locate this mysterious woman. Archie promised to get back to him in a little while and Rex, momentarily satisfied, snapped the phone shut with less force this time.

John's smirk was back, and this time a laugh followed. Rex looked at him quizzically, wondering what John found so amusing at a time like this. "So what is it?" the FBI agent began to ask. "You're in love with Cordi?"

It took the words a few seconds for Rex to process. They seemed to linger in the forefront of his mind like a movie marquee. It took a while for his brain to register the severity in the casual statement and in the answer. Did he love her? Yes, very much so. Whole-heartedly. He would die for her. Was he in love with her? That answer wasn't as easy to come by.

The logical part of him said no. The part that said she needed him, they'd tried it once before and it didn't work out, and a second attempt would most assuredly ruin their friendship. However, the other part of him, the part he often tried to deny and keep quiet in the late hours of the night said that he was in love with her. That he was in love with the headstrong, often magnificent woman who took charge when investigating a story. That he was in love with the flirtatious, often bossy woman who demanded perfection and accepted nothing less. He was in love with the way she stood by him during one of the worst times in his life.

The answer was too difficult to explain in a short amount of time, and Rex wondered if it were possible to be in love with someone and not be in love with them at the same time. Surely, that defied some type of natural physics.

"No," he answered slowly, unsurely. He made a derisive snort. "Wouldn't that be stupid?" He posed, while truly asking himself the question. He locked eyes with John, trying to get him to believe, trying to make himself believe. "I'm not in love with Cordi; I just want to protect her… like a best friend should."

The expression on John's face told Rex he clearly didn't believe him. Rex wasn't sure he believed it himself. He hadn't confronted his feelings for Cordelia is such a blunt fashion in a long while, and it was all a bit frightening. "Protect her from what?" John wanted to know.

Rex's blue eyes glazed over heatedly. "From men like Jason Morgan," he replied in a snide manner. The blond man's demeanor changed dramatically when Jason was mentioned.

To his credit, John didn't laugh, and his voice was surprisingly supportive when he asked, "Are you sure it's not jealousy that's driving you to protect her so fiercely?"

The PI cut his eyes to his friend sharply. "I'm not jealous of Jason Morgan," Rex replied in a low, lethal tone. The fire that'd previously been running through his veins was vanquished by the icy feeling that'd come over him. John's eyebrow rose in suspicion and Rex had to fight the urge to deck him. "Why in the hell would I be jealous of Morgan?"

"You tell me."

Rex scoffed. "No, no. You're the one with all the theories right now, let's hear it."

John tossed as glance at his friend when they came to a stoplight. He could tell Rex was serious by the clenching on the young man's jaw. He just wasn't sure the other man wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Okay," he began. "Maybe you're not jealous of him, but you certainly don't like him."

"Yeah," Rex agreed, and seemingly softened. "It's kind of hard to have a buddy-buddy relationship with the man who kidnapped your best friend."

One corner of John's mouth turned up in a smirk. "You also hate that your best friend is relying on him."

Rex didn't answer immediately. He couldn't think of the proper way to say that Cordelia trusting and relying on Jason wasn't something he just hated, it worried him. "He could get her killed."

"You and I both know Cordi can take care of herself." John shook his head in awe as a smile full of pride curled his pink lips.

"I'm not denying that she can take care of herself, I know she can. I know just what she's capable of; I just think she's in over her head this time. Morgan's a mob enforcer with enemies all over the world. She doesn't need that kind of hazard while trying to find Annalise. But yet… she's starting to trust the bastard."

"Ah," John said, passing a knowing glance at Rex. He was beginning to understand now. "So it's her trusting him that's bothering you."

"Of course, it bothers me. She shouldn't trust him."

"Is that because you're worried that Morgan's a threat or because you want to be the only man she depends on?"

Rex glanced over with an annoyed expression. "She depends on you. I don't have a problem with that."

John laughed. "That's because I was there long before you came along, kiddo. And she doesn't look at me as if she's seeing her own soul in someone else." He looked at Rex sheepishly. "They are an awful lot alike."

Rex scoffed again, loudly. "They're nothing alike. Cordi doesn't kill people for a living."

"My God, kid," John exclaimed and laughed. "You really don't see it, do you?" The look on Rex's face clearly said he didn't. John shook his head and sighed. "Cordelia and Jason…. They're…" He didn't know how to sum it up. How do you properly describe soul mates to someone who was blind to the truth?

"See, you can't even say." John pulled into the hospital's underground parking lot. Rex hopped out when he parked. "They're nothing alike."

"You really don't see her, do you?" John asked when he stepped out of the car, but he wasn't joking. "I thought you being in love with her would justify the rose-colored glasses you have on when it comes to her, but it's so much more than that." He shook his head in disbelief. "You don't see the same look in Jason's eyes that you see in hers on a daily basis?"

"Would that be the cold, stoic stares that Morgan is famous for?" Rex asked as they moved toward the elevator.

"I'm serious," He said when they stepped onto the elevator. The doors closed soundlessly in front of them.

Rex rolled his eyes, crossing his laptop bag over his shoulder. "Okay, Johnny," he began in an exasperated tone. "What special look do they share?"

"Regret," The FBI agent answered cryptically.

Rex made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "Regret?" He grinned. "Everyone has that look at one point or another, Johnny. They share that with the rest of the world."

John shook his head. "Only people who've murdered in cold blood have this look."

He didn't have to turn his head to know that Rex was glaring at him furiously, but he met the other man's gaze head-on. "She's not a killer, John," Rex defended adamantly, quietly, as they stepped off the elevator. John began walking in the direction of Lucky's room and Rex followed. "And she damn sure isn't like Morgan."

John stopped abruptly and turned on his heels. No one was in this corridor with them, so he felt comfortable saying what needed to be said. What Rex refused to see. "And those people in Iraq, her fellow captives? What did she do to them?"

"That's different and you know it."

"Oh, how?" Both men seemed angry now, both seemingly angry with the other for their unrelenting views.

"Her disorder. She snapped. Morgan…"

"Is brain-damaged much in the same way she is." He licked his lips, a habit used to keep his anger in check. "Reardon?"

Rex's jaw clenched tightly. "He tortured her."

John shook his head. "Still don't see it. Look, I love Cordelia. She's one of the best friends I have. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her, but I'm not blind to who she is."

"You're saying I am?"

"I'm saying you don't see her. You don't see the rage she fights back every single day." John looked almost as if he could see it there himself, like she was there in front of him. "You don't see her barely holding on to some sense of who she is."

"I'm the one who's with her during every episode. Have you forgotten that?"

"I'm not talking about the disorder. I'm talking about _her._ I'm talking about her fighting with herself because of the regret she feels for being who she is. For doing what she had to in order to survive." He sighed heavily. "Don't look at her and see the frail girl you picked up by the side of the road, or that girl tortured by Reardon, because I can tell you right now… that's not who she is. She's not… I've known her for a long time, and that's not her."

"Well, I'm sorry I don't have the long history with Cordi that you do, John; but I do know who she is, and she's nothing like Jason Morgan."

John looked deep into Rex's angry eyes. Searching for some indication that Rex understood what he was saying; much to his chagrin, Rex didn't. John sighed heavily again.

"What?" Rex asked, very annoyed right now. More than confused as to how they even began fighting about this in the first place.

"She's going to do something one day, something you don't agree with… and you'll see."

John didn't give him a chance to respond. He walked off quickly, leaving Rex to wonder if he was truly blind to Cordelia after all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The ticking clock on the wall annoyed her. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes she could have used to track down someone involved in this trafficking ring; someone who could have led her to her sister.

The thought of what Annalise was going through was enough to make Cordelia want to cry. She swallowed away the nausea every time she did think of it, sitting in the bullpen of the PCPD going over the second copied file on the warehouse. Cordelia didn't even have to try hard to convince Mac to let her see the file. He'd given it to her upon request, willing to help her in any way he could.

She was sure Rex had gone over the file, and from the message he left on her voicemail, he'd found a possible lead. He was also still quite upset with her for choosing to stay behind with Jason instead of going with him and John.

When she asked Jason if she could stay with him and attend his meeting with the District Attorney, she'd been well aware that Rex wouldn't approve. She also couldn't help but feel that spending time alone in the car with him wouldn't have helped ease her tension.

But now, as she sat there, waiting patiently for Jason to return – after having decided that they wouldn't be able to come up with a viable excuse to tell the DA about her involvement; nor was she willing to divulge the truth – she couldn't deny that she wanted to stay with Jason for other reasons. Reasons that, she knew, had nothing at all to do with her grief but with her growing infatuation with the blond enforcer.

From the moment she met him – all of eight or nine hours now - she's felt increasingly close to the enforcer. Something in his demeanor, his eyes, the way he looked at her, and the way he carried himself… spoke to her. She felt oddly connected to him in ways that she couldn't explain – and certainly didn't want to explain to Rex. It would be incredibly hard – and foolish - to tell her best friend that she felt more comfortable with the enforcer sometimes. That she felt she could be… herself with him.

"Finding any of this helpful?" Mac asked, handing her a cup of coffee.

Cordelia was silently thankful that he'd interrupted her before her thoughts turned dangerous. She accepted the coffee with a gracious smile and set it down on the desk. Mac perched on the edge of the desk. "Um…most of it," she decided. "Rex compiled a list of members from the Zacharra organization." She motioned to the men in the pictures fanned out before her. "I can recall everyone but this…" She picked up a picture. "…this woman." She handed it to him.

Mac looked at the picture, his brow furrowing with confusion. "That's Samantha McCall," he told her looking down into her face. "Lucky Spencer's ex-girlfriend and DA Davis' daughter."

Cordelia's mouth dropped open about a quarter of an inch. Her face held a knowing expression when she finally realized the reason for the DA's call.

"I don't think she works for Anthony Zacharra," Mac continued blithely. "Or perhaps she does, I don't know. She's had a rough time of it lately."

That immediately caught the reporter's attention. Her face remained expressionless when she asked, "Oh? What do you mean?"

"Well…" he paused to think. "There was the Metro Court hostage situation. She had to find a way to escape, but could only get out as one of the terrorists and was almost killed by friendly fire." Cordelia was immediately impressed. "That led to a TV show, _Everyday Heroes_." She could recollect hearing something about it. "I can't even begin to explain how the foursome of Morgan, Spencer, the former Mrs. Spencer who is now Mrs. Morgan and Ms. McCall ended up swapping partners." Cordelia smiled. The look on Mac's bewildered face showed he really didn't want to know. "Then there was the TMK."

"TMK?"

"Text Message Killer," Mac clarified for her. Cordelia nodded, remembering seeing that in one of the files. "Yeah, he tried and almost succeeded on killing her on several occasions."

"What happened after that?" Cordelia asked when Mac grew quiet and introspective. She could see he was remembering something, but she had no idea what. She was certain with wasn't Samantha McCall though. The look in his eyes held far too much pain.

It took a moment for Mac to respond. His eyes glazed over briefly and then snapped to her gaze quickly. As if a magician had snapped their fingers and Mac was back to the present after having been entranced.

"I don't really know," he said softly. "This, I guess." He handed the picture back, and his eyes went hazy again. "Shame, really. She has such potential, but her involvement with men like Morgan and Corinthos…." He cut his statement short when his gaze fell on Cordelia.

She didn't say anything, however. She was sure that Mac and Jason held a history, something that held the two of them in this eternal dance. She knew both men never have actively tried to hurt the other. Sure Mac has tried to build a case against Jason, but it never succeeded and Jason has never tried to retaliate.

"Do you think she would know anything about…" Cordelia still couldn't say the words. "…what's happening with my sister?"

"I don't know," Mac answered sensitively. "You could try talking to her, but you'd have to be…"

"Discreet?" Cordelia supplied. Mac knew, and she figured, that the DA wouldn't be pleased; and Sam would probably wonder why she was being questioned unexpectedly. "Yeah, I figured," her smile was charming as she continued. "Listen, Commissioner-"

"Mac," he interjected.

"Mac," she corrected. "I was wondering if you would feel comfortable with me speaking with your daughter Maxie." Mac's eyes grew narrow at her mention. "I know from you and Jason that she and Cooper…" She still had a hard time referring to this monster by her friend's name. "…dated for a while. I was hoping that she could… give me some insight into his character."

"What good would that do?" He sounded defensive, even though he didn't mean to be.

"If I can know what I'm up against, then perhaps I can learn how to find him."

Mac seemed to consider this. "What types of things would you want to know?"

"Why he came to town, who were his friends, what he did in Iraq; things that can tell me where he's been, so I can predict what his next move will be."

"Cat and mouse," Mac replied shortly. "I don't want my daughter to relive that experience." He looked deep into her eyes with seriousness. "Finding him hanging from the rafters. It's better if she believes he's dead."

"I agree," Cordelia said. "But with all due respect, you're lucky your daughter is still here and didn't go away with him. I don't know why he changed his mind, but you're lucky. He has my sister." Tears twinkled in her eyes. "Please. Your daughter could help."

Mac sat silently, blowing air out of his mouth in a heaving sigh. Part of him wanted to grant Cordelia her wish. She was up against insurmountable odds, and he felt horrible about that. However, the other part of him, the part of him that loved his daughter wanted to say no. He wanted to protect Maxie from having to experience that pain all over again.

"You won't let on that he's alive?"

"No," Cordelia said. "I promise." She held his gaze to show she meant it. "Whoever he is, he's done one good thing," she continued softly. "He spared her."

Mac's head dropped in defeated agony. The thought that his daughter would have willingly gone with that monster was one that would haunt him forever. He nodded and Cordelia knew he was giving her his consent.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling like the weight lifted from her chest.

Mac nodded again and stood from the desk. "I should get back to work," he said, not looking directly at her. "If you need anything," his eyes found hers. "…don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks," Cordelia said and followed his frame when he walked away.

He stopped in front of Jason, putting his hand up in front of the enforcer. Both men locked eyes, fiercely staring the other down. Cordelia wondered just what held these two raging bulls locked by their horns.

"She's a special woman," Mac began softly to Jason. "Don't mess her about." Both men knew exactly what (whom) Mac was referring to when he said that.

"I won't," Jason said with more determination than Mac had ever seen in him.

The older man walked away while Jason walked up to Cordelia. She looked up into his eyes and immediately knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" she asked, curiously.

"We've got a problem."


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen, Cast No Shadow:**

_Alexis was seated and facing the large window in her office when Jason entered. The large leather back of the chair was covering her body from view, but Jason knew she was there. He could hear the soft, sharp intakes of breath she took. The fact that she wasn't working was as large a clue about her unhappiness as was her calling him and asking for help._

_Jason had taken all of two steps inside when Alexis greeted him. "Thank you for coming," she said, her back still him. Jason wondered how she knew it was him, but didn't think to ask. He figured they had more pressing matters to discuss anyway._

_Alexis turned slowly to face him, her face a mixture of gratitude and remorse. The redness of her eyes showed that she'd been crying; a thought that wholly disturbed Jason. He may not like the woman half the time, but he still hated to see any woman crying. Instinctively, Alexis diverted her eyes briefly. Hoping to hide the vulnerability she knew was still brightly showing._

_She held out her hand, bringing her eyes back to his face, motioning for him to sit in the chair in front of her desk. Surprisingly, he did sit, wondering silently just how serious the issue she wanted to discuss was._

"_I know," she began in poised tones. "That you're wondering why I called you here. Why I specifically said that I need your help."_

"_The thought's crossed my mind, yeah," he responded when she grew quiet. He couldn't stop himself from studying her with his eyes. The usually regally poised lawyer before him looked as if she were about to come undone. As if she had been tied to the chair she occupied with invisible chains; and he couldn't help but wonder why._

_Alexis let the venomous words she wanted to say die on her tongue. Her mouth parted slightly, a sharp intake of air followed by an unsteady exhale, was the only response given to his statement. She couldn't blame him for his disdain; she had been increasingly rude to him earlier. _

"_Look..." Another sharp inhale. "I know that I was rude to you earlier, and harassed you along with Detective Taggert in regards to your impending mob war, but..." She made a helpless gesture with her hands._

_Before she could speak again, Jason rose from the chair and gently as he'd sat down. "Alexis, if you called me here to get information on what's going on, I've already told you I don't have a comment. You want answers, talk to Sonny."_

_He turned to go, and was two steps closer to the door when Alexis' voice softly cried out, "Wait!" He turned to see her standing in front of her chair, holding on the edge of her desk so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "Please," she said. "Wait." She walked around the front of the desk, and looked at him desperately. "I need your help, Jason." Thankfully for her, Jason stood in his place. His face was turned away from her when she whispered, "It's Sam. She's headed for trouble."_

Cordelia drove quickly down the road towards the docks. She was listening intently to Jason recanting his meeting with the DA when she first noticed the car. A silver four-door sedan, driven by a dark-haired man with dark shades covering his eyes. Being a trained as she was, she noticed it but didn't think much of it. In truth, she noticed everything around her. It was one of the better side perks of being military bred.

Jason was silent for a long while. Taking notice of the fact that it was just the two of them in her car, talking and working together. There was no animosity looming between them or any type of discomfort. Even the silence they were in, despite the situation, was a comfortable silence.

He sighed heavily, receiving a side glance from Cordelia. He saw the genuine concern in her eyes, wondering silently why he was surprised it was there at all. Then, it hit him. He hardly knew her. He'd read everything about her life, but that was on paper. He had a vague idea about the kind of woman she was – simply by her determination – but that was just the tip of the iceberg. The confident, poised, dangerous woman beside him was a mystery.

"So," Cordelia began – swerving to pass a car in front of them – Jason looked over at her cautiously. "What's this trouble the DA's daughter is getting into?"

_Alexis' eyes glistened with tears when she leaned back against the edge of her desk. Jason had since closed the door to her office and moved a little further inside. Close enough to her that he could see the worry in her eyes, and tired lines etching along her face. He could see her entire body quiver when she let out a shaky breath._

"_What's going on?" he asked, his expressive blue eyes watching her carefully._

"_The Zacharra's waterfront property has been under police investigation," she told him, unaware that he already knew and had seen part of the file. "Under the suspicion of illegal drug and arms trafficking," she continued, looking up into his face. She was quiet for a moment, a heavy silence falling between them until she began again. "I want you to know that I'm breaking several protocols, not to mention a law or two by divulging the nature of an ongoing investigation to a rival mafia member who has made no qualms about his disinterest in adhering to the laws of this state and this country." She scoffed lightly. "Not to mention the mere fact that I'm acting in a highly hypocritical fashion after accusing you and Sonny Corinthos of conspiracy, but..." She looked away quickly. "If there is anyone who can save my daughter..." She looked back into his eyes. "It's you."_

_Jason swallowed hard. Whatever dislike he felt for Alexis, and even his sometimes animosity towards Sam for their past indiscretions, he wouldn't allow her to be harmed. Even if she insisted on placing herself in harm's way. "What's Sam involved in?"_

_Alexis cleared her throat. "For some reason known only to her, Lucky Spencer and my nephew, Sam believes that the Zacharra's are not only importing illegal black market drugs, but are testing and distributing them through area hospitals. Sam has evidence of this taking place at General Hospital, while the PCPD has found corroborating of this at Mercy Hospital and even The Saint Augustus Medical Center in Manhattan. There have been six reported deaths in all."_

_Jason sighed and ran one of his big hands across the back of his neck. The more she told him, the more he was certain this wouldn't end well. Then, the mention of the medical center triggered a memory. Spinelli had said that was were the Cooper look-alike received reconstructive surgery. He made a mental note to remind Spinelli to dig deeper into that aspect. As well as tell Cordelia about it._

"_Does Anthony Zacharra know that Sam is working for him?"_

"_I don't know," Alexis answered honestly. "But Jerry Jacks does, and he..." she made a gesture with her hands. "You know very well what he's capable of."_

_Jason didn't have to respond to that. Instead, he asked, "What is it you want me to do, Alexis?" He wasn't sure what she was asking of him. Wasn't sure what he could do at any rate anyway._

"_I learned through Mac that there is to be a raid on one of their properties. Apparently, someone in that organization talked. He was arrested last night for attempted murder of Lucky Spencer," she told him, again unaware that he knew already. "Sam is operating as a freelance private investigator but she doesn't have her license so if she's caught there..."_

"_She'll be arrested and charged," Jason finished for her. He closed his eyes tightly for a split second._

"_Worse yet, she'll become a target for Trevor Lansing and Anthony Zacharra. They'll assume, probably with minimal coercion from Jerry, that it was Sam who informed the PCPD about the drugs."_

"_When's the raid?" he asked._

"_In about two hours. They're briefing SWAT right now."_

_Jason turned and ran out her office without a word. No words of comfort to the lady lawyer or even his acceptance of her request. The enforcer disappeared as quickly as he appeared, but Alexis knew he would try. And that was all she could hope for right now._

"So, what's the plan?" Cordelia asked, keeping an eye on the car that has followed them for the past three blocks. "Are we just going to walk in and pray she's there and get her out or..." She switched to an open lane and turned a corner she didn't need to.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked, looking at her when her foot pressed the accelerator.

"We're being followed," she informed him, and made an illegal turn. The car followed suit. "It's the silver Sedan about three cars back. It's been following us since we left the police station."

Jason looked through the side mirrors as well as the rear view to get a better look. A blaring horn sounded from the car Cordelia passed. "How many guys?"

"I've only seen two. The driver and the front passenger," she told him. She crossed a busy intersection just as the light was turning red. The car followed suit, causing two passing cars to slam into each other. "Shit," she exclaimed when the silver sedan was now right behind them. "We've got to do something about them."

"Like what? A shootout in the middle of the street during the middle of the afternoon?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes and tossed him an annoyed glance. "No, I was thinking more along the lines of leading them to a dark alleyway for an ambush." The sedan rammed the back of her Porsche. "Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed. "There's no friggin' way that piece of crap car can keep up with my baby." Another swerve around a corner. "They must have tweaked it a bit."

Jason rolled his eyes at her, and saw the passenger loading a weapon. "Looks like a standard nine mil," he told her.

"Look in the glove compartment," she told him. He did and pulled out her silver SIG Suaer sidearm.

"You certainly have an affinity for silver." He was visibly impressed with her choice of weaponry, however. "I'm partial to Beretta's myself."

An amused smile crossed the brunette's pink lips. She hit the telephone button on her ONStar set up and prattled off a phone number.

"Who are you calling?" he asked while loading both of their weapons.

"Back up," she rambled. When the other end picked up, "Johnny, no time to chat," she told the FBI agent. "Jason and I are being tailed. I need you to trace the license plate – 901AH6 – and get me a bird in the sky." She looked at Jason, who pointed to a fenced enclosure on the other side of the street they were currently racing down. "I'm going to have to ditch my girl for a little while on Seaport Avenue. Well, the alley of Seaport anyway," she sounded very dejected.

"You know I'm upset you and Morgan are having all the fun, right?"

She flashed a toothy grin, and Jason smiled, too. "I know it, babe. You and Rex get anything out of Lucky?"

"Haven't talked to him yet. He's in with his physical therapist."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Well, bring up the fact that his girlfriend is going to be arrested in a police raid in about..." She looked at the clock. "Thirty minutes. Don't mention the fact that Jason and I are going to try and get her out before the cops arrive."

"That'll be hard, since I'm sure they're already watching the place. They won't move in off of bad intel."

"That's what the bird is for," she informed him. "We're going to Blitzkrieg the hell out of them. We just need to make sure they're looking somewhere else first."

"You two be careful," John said. Jason was surprised he was included in that. "Morgan?"

"Yeah?" Jason replied.

"Don't let her have too much fun."

Jason smiled as Cordelia rolled her eyes again. "We'll meet you at the hospital once this is over, Johnny." She tapped the button and cut off the call. "Is this close enough to where the raid is happening?" she asked Jason.

"Yeah," he replied. "Their waterfront property is just a few yards away."

"Good," she said. And pressed harder on the accelerator.

"What's your plan, Cordi?" Jason asked, both of them noticing this was the first time he'd used her nickname.

"We need to divert the cops attention away from the warehouse were your friend is," she began. "No better way to do that than with an explosion."

She pressed the brakes so hard, Jason had to brace himself even though he was wearing a seatbelt. The other car, whose brakes were not as nearly refined, crashed into the back of her Porsche with such a force that it bounced off the car and the airbags were deployed. "Time to move," she told him and they both hopped out of the car with their weapons in hand and ran toward the other car.

The driver and the passenger were temporarily disoriented by being hit with the airbags, but it was time enough for Cordelia and Jason to aim their weapons at them and force them out of their car. The two would-be assassins were made to lay face down on the ground while Jason bound their hands. They were set against the chain-link fence.

Jason worked on extracting information from them while Cordelia worked on making a make-shift bomb from the items in her duffel bag from the backseat of her now damaged car. They prattled in broken Russian – most of which she understood.

"Where in the hell did you learn to do that?" Jason asked when she placed the incendiary device on the undercarriage of the car.

She smiled sheepishly. "Travel in bad circles long enough and you pick up tricks." She picked up her duffel bag that had all her files and 'toys' in it. "Stand up," she told the men in Russian. She asked them if they understood English. They remained quiet and she shot a warning shot close to one's head. They shouted yes in English. "Good, I'm only going to say this once. We're sparing your lives because you're going to report back to your boss that whoever they are, wherever they are, I will find them. Understood?" The men nodded again, leaving Jason in complete amazement of her. "Good. Move."

She directed them into the abandoned warehouse adjacent to the alley, then looked back at her car and grimaced. "We had such good times," she said with a heavy sigh.

"You sure this will get the cops attention?" Jason asked.

"If it doesn't, I'm going to be sorely pissed off," she said and after closing her eyes, pushed the detonator triggering the explosion.

The fire roared, and just as expected, the cops on the scene – most undercover – took off to see what was happening. Jason and Cordelia then ran the few yards undetected to the Zacharra property in search of Sam.

"Those guys are going to be arrested," Jason said, keeping up with her full sprint. "They're going to be sitting ducks for whoever hired them."

"Maybe," Cordelia agreed when they stopped to take cover. "But that could lead us somewhere, too."

Jason agreed with her logic. Whoever hired them wouldn't allow them to live, especially not after having been captured by police. That would be considered a weakness. Whoever was behind all of this was not weak. "Did you understand what they were saying?"

"Yeah," she said. "They said they'd rather die than talk. Death would be more welcomed than what their boss would do to them."

He breathed deeply. "We're dealing with something big here then." She could tell he was thinking of his family. He didn't say anymore as he noticed Sam running with her weapon in hand. "That's her," he told Cordelia who had already taken off.

"Sam!" she called. The other woman stopped at the sound of her name, and raised her weapon, but saw Jason running behind the woman. She then realized she must be the woman Lucky was talking about.

"Sam," he called her as well. Then noticed the fear in her eyes. "What is it?"

"Lulu," she said. "She's here. She's inside."

"What?" Jason exclaimed in disbelief. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"I don't know, something to do with proving Johnny innocent. I don't know. But there's a bomb inside."

"Who is Lulu and why is there a bomb inside?"

"Lucky's sister," Jason answered the first question.

"Because the men were tipped off about a police raid, so they moved the drugs and planted a bomb inside. Lulu arrived when they were moving the drugs and went inside. I have to get her out." Sam answered the second.

Jason concurred that someone needed to get the teenager out, but before he could volunteer, Cordelia had already cleared the barrier and was running inside. "Cordelia!" he called after her. Three shots rang out while he raced towards the door.

He couldn't get closer when the helicopter John sent for them hovered close by. Jason yelled to tell them there was a bomb inside and that Cordelia and a civilian were still inside when the metal door banged open and a crying Lulu helped carry a wounded Cordelia outside.

Jason didn't know he could run as fast as he could, until he found himself racing to her side. Sam was close behind. "Cordi?" he called her timidly.

"Paul Wade is inside," she told one of the FBI agents she knew John kept in the loop. He immediately ran inside, much to Jason and Sam's surprise.

"The bomb?" Sam asked, nervously.

Cordelia held out the detonator in her bloodied hand before she collapsed into Jason's waiting arms.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19, The Cost of Freedom:**

The sound of indistinct voices calling her name awakened Cordelia. Blearily, she opened her eyes to find her vision blurred. The pain in her side was excruciating, but she didn't cry out, and tears that never spilled welled up against her fluttering eyelids. The pain effectively stopped them as well as any sound she would have made. She barely made a sound at all; at least, not one she could hear. She couldn't hear anything but the rushing of her own blood in her ears... and the soft echo of her sister's voice in her mind.

_Annalise's smile widened when she pulled her Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses down across her eyes. She shifted the paper bag that held the new two-piece bathing suit she'd just purchased on her forearm, while linking her free arm in her sister's. _

_Cordelia tried to return the smile, but neither the action nor the sentiment behind it could be produced. She had a bad feeling she just couldn't shake._

"_Oh, my God, Delia," Annalise sighed exasperated. "It's not like I'm running away. It's only a weekend trip to Fiji."_

_Cordelia didn't know how to accurately express what she was thinking, since, in all truthfulness, she really didn't know what she was thinking. So, she went with what she did know. "Anna, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying…" Annalise turned to her older sister, long brown hair blowing in the wind, and whipping around her shoulders. Cordelia could tell she wanted her approval. She wanted Cordelia to be supportive of this relationship with Tom because it meant a lot to her… obviously. "I'm just saying be careful."_

_Annalise leaned over and kissed her sister's cheek lightly. "Don't worry, Delia," she began, her voice reflecting her happiness. "I trust Tom." She squeezed Cordelia's arm, even as the older sister felt a cold shiver run down her spine. "You can trust him, too."_

Cordelia's limp body lay across the seat, her head resting against her jacket, her body going slack against the cushions even though she writhed in pain. The reporter's mind raced in matched speed against her pulsating blood. She could barely make sense of anything besides the pain, but she was vaguely aware that she was being watched.

Jason sat on the other side of the cramped hub with Lulu trembling beside him (Sam volunteered to go with the remaining agents on the ground), watching Cordelia as one of the other FBI agents applied pressure to her wound while talking to her. Much to his surprise, Jason found himself waiting for Cordelia to respond with some smart-ass comment but she never did.

He didn't like this at all. The color drained from her face, and the longer she remained motionless terrified him. He'd come to think of her as some invincible, fighting machine when in fact she was a human being – young, resilient, but still human. She bled just as any other human being did, but watching the light fade from her was something Jason had never expected to do.

He certainly never expected to be so greatly affected by it. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he started to care for her. Genuinely care for her instead of feeling obligated to helping her. In the ten hours they've now known each other; they've been shot at twice, threatened each other, and worked on tracking down key players in this mystery they were currently shrouded in. Situations like that forced you to put your animosity aside and become a team, a single unified unit, and they had done that so seamlessly Jason didn't notice. He considered her a friend now, and felt he could safely say he's never known anyone quite like her - for obvious reasons - and the thought that she could be slipping away was one he couldn't fathom.

"How is she?" he asked the agent tending to her wound. His voice was soft to his own ears.

"I don't know," the woman responded thoughtfully. She didn't take her eyes off Cordelia's face; she, too, was waiting for some kind of remark to fly out of the reporter's mouth. It was obvious to Jason that they were friends. "I can't get a clear view of the wound, but there is too much blood for it to be superficial."

Jason swallowed hard and nodded, he'd just have to accept that for now. He hoped they weren't too far away from the hospital now. He'd heard the pilot telling someone at the hospital that their estimated time of arrival was two minutes. He just hoped Cordelia could make it.

He tried telling himself that she was strong, that she'd survived worse, but those thoughts offered him little comfort. Those were times when he didn't know her. That he hadn't spent the better part of a whole day finding out just how truly amazing and brilliant she was.

Lulu shivered again, and his attention diverted to her. She looked more pale than usual, her blonde curls hanging loosely around her face. Jason had never been so upset with her before. He took ten calming breaths before speaking to her.

"Why were you at the docks?" he asked her – no sugarcoating, no beating around the bush. Lulu's head shook so slightly that Jason almost missed it. "Lulu!" he barked her name, causing her to jump and look at him fearfully. "What the hell were you doing there?"

"Tr-trying to prove Johnny's innocence," she responded shakily.

"You could have died, Lulu," he told her. "Do you get that?" he asked more forcefully.

"I had to try," she whispered.

"Why?" he demanded. "Why in the hell would you risk your life for his?"

"I needed to prove his innocence!" The pink undertones of Lulu's cheek flamed bright red. A breath caught in her throat so quickly Jason thought she would choke. She exhaled slowly, raggedly.

Jason could see she was terrified, that whatever happened in the warehouse unnerved her, but he wanted answers. John and Rex would certainly want to know why their friend was almost killed, and truthfully, so did he. He also wanted to know just what Lulu felt was worth her own life to save Johnny's. "How?" He asked sharply. "What's at the warehouse that can prove his innocence?" Lulu had returned to staring straight ahead, looking directly at Cordelia, yet looking past her. Seconds clipped by and she hadn't answered him, hadn't even made an attempt. "Lulu!"

"A tape of something," she told him, cryptically and unsurely, with her eyes shut tightly.

Jason forced himself to remain objective and to focus on extracting the information before asking his own set of questions. "What tape? What are you talking about?" the enforcer demanded to know.

"Johnny said there was a video camera set up in the warehouse. He said that it's been taping for a while, but since he's been arrested he couldn't get to it to collect it. He said it would clear him." The teenager's eyes filled with tears. Jason knew she wanted him to feel some type of pity toward her – some type of understanding for her actions – but he couldn't.

"Did you get it?"

She shook her head, and looked down at the floor. Jason immediately knew she wasn't telling him something… something important. "Claudia must have taken it," she finally revealed, Jason wondering if she were trying to convince him or herself. When she muttered, "She must have." Jason knew it was the latter. "I heard him telling her when I went to visit him. He didn't even know I was there. He..." She swallowed down the knot rising in her throat. "She must have beaten me there, because she wasn't there when I got there..." She looked over at Jason. "I had to... I had to try, right?" She was looking for justification. "I couldn't just let him stay in jail."

Anger flashed fervently in Jason's eyes and he struggled to keep from yanking Lulu right off the seat. His voice was lethal and cold when he said, "Look over there." He pointed to Cordelia; his action and tone used as tools to admonish the girl. She seemed more upset that she couldn't be the one to save Johnny than anything else that happened. That infuriated Jason greatly. "Look at what Johnny's freedom cost. You and Sam were almost blown up, and Cordelia was shot." He couldn't stop the single tear that rolled down his eyes when he realized Cordelia's eyes were open and she was looking directly at him. He didn't dare wipe it away. "Too high a fucking price to pay," he whispered but Lulu heard him.

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Rex didn't see things in black and white, like John and even Cordelia thought he did. Sure, there were some areas where there was no room for deviation one way or the other (those being something pertaining negatively to his mother, sister and Cordelia), but he knew there was the varying shades of grey in other aspects.

Problem was, this wasn't one of those other aspects.

This area was: 'Cordelia walks blindly into danger.' He was not a fan of this area, and being the reporter's best friend, it was his job to save her… even from herself. However, in no way, shape, or form, did that correlate to romantic love… or blindness as John had said.

He sat sitting in the chair beside the window, typing away furiously on the laptop, going over John's words in his head. _"You really don't see her, do you?"_ He glanced over to John who was leaning casually against the wall. They both were waiting for Lucky Spencer to return from his physical therapy to ask him more questions about the human trafficking ring he so conveniently left out of the earlier conversation.

Still, with the task looming at hand, and Cordelia out with Jason doing god-knows-what, Rex couldn't help but think about what John said. He had to admit, there was some truth to what the other man said: he did want to be the one Cordelia depended on. He had been for so long now that he wasn't sure he wanted to give it up. He knew that Cordelia was strong and capable, but he still liked the idea that if she were having a bad day at the paper, she would call him. He liked that she asked him for help, even when they both knew she really didn't need his help. He liked that she thought of him as a hero instead of the liar he was.

Rex sighed heavily, thinking on how he never told Cordelia what her father had done. Never told her that the only reason he made that plane back to the States with her was that her father arranged for his early release from active duty. The apartment in Manhattan a few blocks from hers hadn't been his for years like the lease and the building manager suggested. He'd only threw his things around a day or two before showing her the place and all of it, including the back-story, had been supplied by her father.

The General asked Rex to keep an eye on his daughter, but Rex found that after time, he really started to keep after Cordelia for himself. The relationship that developed between them happened naturally. Cordelia opened up to him slowly, over time, and no matter what, Rex would never be sorry for that.

He did know that Cordelia would never forgive him if she ever found out the truth.

And that was the real source of his anxiety.

The thought that she wouldn't need him anymore because she needed Jason was an issue unto itself, but the real thing that scared Rex was Cordelia not needing him… at all. The fact that he could lose her forever because of his _own actions_… He sighed again and John glanced over at him.

"What's got you so angry?" the FBI agent asked casually. Rex always amazed at how easily John could recover from his anger. He suspected it was an interrogation tactic the FBI was trained to use.

"I can't get a read on Cordi's or Morgan's microphones." He glanced up from the screen to see John's confusion written across his face. "Our microphones are encrypted and coded so that we can always have a lead on each other in case one needs help."

John nodded. "Don't they have some kind of radius limitation? 100 yards or something?"

"No," Rex answered, returning his attention to the screen. "They have no limitation. Cordi and I… get into some weird situations and we'd rather not take the risk."

John nodded in response, but Rex didn't look up again. Instead, the blond man stared intently at the screen in front of him. "There must be some kind of interference then?" he asked.

"Yeah," Rex replied absently. Something flashing across the screen had claimed his attention. "Huh. Seems there was a police raid on some of the Zacharra's waterfront property."

John didn't let on to the fact that he already knew that. Nor did he let on that it was probably the interference between their microphones. There was probably some commotion that Cordelia and Jason were in the middle of.

"Look," John began while running a strong hand through his shoulder length hair. "Kid, about earlier…"

"Let's not go back to that, Johnny," Rex said. The seriousness in his voice made John oblige. "We had our say. We don't agree. Let's move on, and do this."

"Alright," John agree right before Lucky walked back into his room. Whatever emotions he was feeling vanished like smoke on the wind. All that was left was the cool and calm FBI agent mentality.

"Agent," Lucky greeted. He looked over to Rex, having never seen him before, then back to John. "What can I do for you?"

"Have a seat, Detective," John said politely.

Lucky looked warily back to Rex. "I'd rather you tell me what's going on."

"Rex Balsom," Rex introduced himself. "Private investigator working with the FBI and Cordelia Roberts." He was eerily calm as well. "What you can do, Detective, is start with why you neglected to mention you arrested Johnny Zacharra on false charges to protect his sister."

"And also why you neglected to mention the human trafficking ring you investigated," John added. He held out a hand in an inviting manner, remembering that intimidation and fear tactics on got you so far.

Lucky jaw set in consternation as he slowly walked across the room to his bed. John moved a little closer while Rex remained seated. Both men looked at Lucky intently, waiting for the detective to start.

"How'd you find out about that?" he asked finally.

"You're the one answering questions here," Rex said, but John touched his shoulder. He needed to back off.

"Your Commissioner had to comply with the chain of command on this one: FBI's been sniffing after this for a while."

John noticed how Lucky seemed to relax slightly with the thought Mac hadn't willingly complied. He hoped Rex noticed as well.

"I'd been watching the warehouse because Claudia Zacharra came to me about it," Lucky answered truthfully, his voice sounding dejected a little. John and Rex both noticed he looked as if he wanted to say something else, but Lucky words died before they ever left his mouth.

"Why'd she come to you?" John wanted to know.

"And how did her brother get involved?" Rex added.

Lucky sighed deeply, his head falling backward against the pillow as he looked up at the ceiling. Both John and Rex knew from his actions that whatever the reason, it was personal. "My sister is involved with Johnny Zacharra," the detective said after lowering his head. "Romantically," he added for further clarification.

"They threatened your sister?" Rex asked quickly. He, too, knew what it felt like to have a sibling to look out for.

"No," he said and shook his head. "Trevor Lansing has been in control of the Zacharra organization for years. He…" his voice trailed off. The words too painful to speak.

"He what?" John asked carefully.

"He threatened Johnny by threatening Lulu and Claudia." Lucky's gaze fell briefly. "Said that they would come up missing if Johnny didn't do what he said. Johnny's been going against the grain, trying to wrestle control of the organization from Trevor."

"Claudia's been doing the same thing," John replied.

"Yeah, but, she came across the trafficking and threatened Trevor with exposing it, only to come to realize that Trevor had set it up for all traces to lead back to her."

"So they both came to you so you could get proof that it's Trevor and not them?" Rex asked. Lucky nodded. "So you kept quiet to Cordelia about it why?"

"No offense, but answering a reporter's questions, especially one as well known as she is, would have been detrimental to my case. And more importantly, my sister's life."

Anger flashed hotly in John's eyes. "Did you think that by you keeping quiet, you further endangered _her_ sister's life?"

Lucky didn't answer; couldn't with both men staring him down in anger. He felt bad about lying – well, not really lying so much as leaving things out – but with both of their parents gone, Lulu and Nikolas were the only family he had left.

"I am sorry," Lucky said finally. "I know how she feels."

"I doubt it," Rex replied. "You were able to protect your sister. She wasn't so lucky."

"I'm going to need to know everything you know," John said, checking his anger behind the veneer of duty. "And this time, don't leave anything out."

Lucky nodded, intent on telling them the truth – or as much of it as he knew - when the door to his room burst open. Jason rushed inside looking bewildered and his shirt was covered in blood. He looked from John to Rex with a mixture of worry and remorse.

"What the hell?" John asked, taking in Jason's appearance.

Rex barely felt his breath catch when Jason said, "Cordelia's been shot."

The world seemed to stand still; and for ten seconds, everything was quiet.

The sound of the thousand-dollar laptop hitting the floor jarred everyone back into reality. Rex was in front of Jason in two seconds flat, holding the man's collar and pushing him against the wall. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Jason didn't have time to respond when Rex abruptly let him go and ran out of the door and down the hallway. John stayed behind a moment longer to collect Rex's belongings and to tell Lucky that they were not finished. He had to force himself to remain calm in situations like these… no matter how much he wanted to take off in a sprint like Rex.

He shared a look with Jason, one that didn't cast blame but was questioning. The look in Jason's eyes told him what he feared. "She's bad?" Jason could only nod. "Let's go," John said and they both hurried out the door to race to her side.


	21. Chapter 20

**Author's Notes:** Yeah, I have no idea if the medical jargon I put in this chapter is accurate. I'm a complete novice at that. I hope what I wanted to convey comes across anyway.

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**Chapter 20; World, Hold On:**

The gurney carrying Cordelia's limp body burst through the operating room doors. A crew of five hurrying behind her looking incredibly worried. Cordelia had fallen unconscious again on the way to the hospital and had yet to come out of it. The FBI agent who'd been seeing to her wounds in the hub looked worst of all, especially with Cordelia's blood staining the front of her shirt. She was stopped outside the operating room doors, forced to look through them as a spectator.

"What have we got?" Dr. Patrick Drake said and he rushed into the room. He barely glanced at his patient's face while heading toward the gurney to assist Elizabeth, who was trying to get the bleeding under control.

"Single gunshot wound to the abdomen," Epiphany replied, silently wondering why Patrick, a neurosurgeon, was attending.

She kept that to herself as Patrick announced certain medicines and how much to give her. "We've got to control the bleeding," he said while he glanced over to the erratically beeping monitor. "She's going into shock!" he announced suddenly and momentarily glanced at her face.

"Patrick!" Elizabeth yelled when he immediately removed his hands from the wound. She recovered quickly and applied more pressure to the wound.

"Dr. Drake, the patient is going into shock. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you need to get your head straight right now." Epiphany reprimanded when Patrick stepped away with a look of pure shock. Being a seasoned nurse, and thankful that Elizabeth had enough experience, they both knew what to do. "We don't need another lawsuit filed against us for negligence," she added, hoping that would snap him out of whatever state he was in.

Elizabeth looked up at him with worry etching along her eyes. She'd never seen him act that way, not even when he'd nicked himself while operating on an HIV positive woman. She knew Epiphany had an inclination that their relationship was more than professional, and her calling him by his first name hadn't helped matters. She'd just have to worry about that later.

Patrick, for his part, heeded Epiphany's warning and stepped back up to the table to stabilize Cordelia's bleeding along with the nurses. He couldn't believe she was in this town…in this hospital… on this table. "I think her spleen is the source of her bleeding," he said, but his voice was without its usual confidence. He sounded unsure of himself. "Is there an exit wound?"

"No," Elizabeth answered. "The bullet is still inside."

"Epiphany, have Dr. Jonas paged." His face contorted with worry.

He knew that his brother, Matt Hunter, would probably be the best surgeon for her, not to say that Elias Jonas wouldn't do all he could, but he wanted the best. Matt, however, had been placed on administrative leave until after the negligence hearing. The mayor's mistress died on the operating table after a blow to the head… bad business for all.

"We need to open her up as soon as possible and get that bullet out. Start her on a unit of O positive," Patrick said with great certainty. "And 100 milligrams of Kogenate. We need to get her blood clotting… fast."

"Wait," Epiphany spoke up. "Won't that amount increase the risk of a blood clot traveling to her heart?"

"Nurse Johnson, if you're having trouble following orders, I suggest you leave and let Elizabeth and I take point. That way, you're certain to not be involved in any ensuing backlash or lawsuits." Patrick shook his head, cursed when Epiphany leveled him with an annoyed and somewhat hurt glare. He knew Epiphany was worried more about the patient than another lawsuit being brought against them. "Sorry, Epiphany," he said sheepishly. "I just… I'm more worried about her bleeding out before we get her stabilized. She's a hemophiliac."

Elizabeth and Epiphany looked confused, Epiphany the only one who didn't let her emotions show on her face. She moved from the bed to the nurses' phone by the door to have the doctor paged. Elizabeth stayed close to the patient, monitoring and administering the proper dosage of drugs, while also watching Patrick closely. He seemed to be coming quietly unglued.

Patrick couldn't believe he was seeing her again; especially like this. He'd gone over in his head at least a million times the things he wanted to say to her if he were to ever see her again. He'd yell and scream and do all the things he'd never gotten the chance to do.

But he never expected to see her like this…

Never wanted…

"Patrick," Elizabeth's voice was calm; a direct contrast to the look on her face. Patrick could see the question in her blue eyes and he didn't want to answer. She went with the safest question she could think of while they waited for the surgeon. "How did you know she's a hemophiliac?"

Out the corner of his eyes, Patrick could see Epiphany waiting to hear his answer as well while she checked the blood IV she'd set in place. He hated this. Hated answering questions. Hated having to explain himself.

He sighed heavily, feeling only slight relief when the monitors showed signs of Cordelia improving.

"She's my wife."

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_The anger set on his face hardened his features. He was due at the hospital ten minutes ago, but had yet to leave the apartment. Couldn't leave the apartment when he saw her bag tossed on the floor beside the door._

"_Delia…" he said her name. Found it hard to say anything else. His heart thundered against his chest so hard he thought his ribcage would break. He couldn't believe she was just standing there like she hadn't just ripped his heart out._

"_Patrick," Cordelia said his name softly. She would have reached out and touched his face the way she usually did when she wanted to calm him, but felt she no longer had the right to do so. She closed her eyes and sighed. "I have to go. I have to do this."_

"_Why?" His voice creaked with sadness and anger. The pager on his hip beeped again for the tenth time. He ignored it. "Why do you have to go? There are safer assignments here in the States. You don't have to go all the way to Iraq to be a hero." He moved toward her, touched her face the way he always did. "You're my hero."_

_Cordelia looked up into his face, her green eyes touching a part of his soul that no one else had ever been able to reach. That no one else could ever reach. "People are dying over there, Patrick. Even some of our friends," she reminded him._

_Patrick felt the pang of hurt creep into his heart as it always did when he thought of their friend Cody. He remembered the memorial service they held for him not too long ago. He couldn't imagine holding one for her. The thought was too much to bear. _

_He kissed her then. Hard and fast, holding her body tightly against his, feeling her soft, velvety skin against his fingertips. They'd always had their problems. Both were too ambitious, even at the expense of the time they spent together. Both of their families were absentee and a source of resentment and there wasn't a day they didn't fight. But, there also wasn't a day that Patrick didn't make love to his wife to remind both of them that they shared something special. That no matter what the outside world put them through, they always had a home in each other._

"_I can't lose you, Delia," he whispered against her lips. "I wouldn't know how to live without you." _

_Cordelia didn't say anything, she really couldn't bear to break his heart any more than she was already planning to. _

"_Promise me you'll wait. Let's just… talk about it first." His eyes locked with her. He was begging. "Please…"_

"_Okay," she replied when his pager went off again. She kissed him again before ushering him out the door._

_Cordelia waited until she saw his car turn out of the garage and drive off down the street toward the hospital before calling for a cab. She tossed her car keys into the key bin on the desk by the door and pulled the letter she'd written him out of her bag._

_She hoped the letter would explain to her husband why she had to go. She hoped that one day he would understand why she had to do this. Picking up her bag, she left the apartment, knowing the divorce papers would reach him as soon as she hit Iraqi soil in two days._

Patrick paced back and forth outside the operating room along with Rex. The two men didn't know each other, not until John introduced them, but they both carried the same look of constant worry. In fact, everyone in the small area, from Patrick to Rex, to John, Jason and the FBI agent who'd seen to Cordelia's wounds in the helicopter hub looked the same.

Patrick didn't know what the hell his wife (ex-wife, he reminded himself) was doing with someone as dangerous as Jason Morgan, and he didn't really care. He just wanted her away from him.

That was something he and Rex agreed on. The blond PI's face twisted with anger every time he looked at Jason. He kept his cool however, remembering there were mafia goons lurking around and knowing that John would more than likely break it up. The FBI agent was feeling a certain sense of camaraderie with the mob enforcer… and Rex hated that as well.

It had been three hours since Cordelia was rushed into surgery. The drugs that Patrick prescribed had done the trick and stabilized her; they just hoped they would last long enough for the surgeon to get the bullet out.

Rex sighed, stopping mid pace and looked over at Jason. Rex couldn't believe the mob enforcer had the nerve to look worried when all of this was his fault. Rex felt he should have never let Cordelia get involved with the likes of him.

"You never did tell me what the hell happened," Rex directed at Jason, his voice remaining surprisingly even.

Jason ignored the glare, deciding nothing good would come from challenging the PI. "Cordelia and I were doing a favor for a friend," Jason began to explain, unsure of why he classified Alexis as a 'friend'.

"What friend?" Rex all but demanded.

"That's not important," Jason glossed over that.

Anger flashed hotly in Rex's eyes and John went on alert. The 'Cordelia and I' bit was grating on him as well. "Oh, but it is, since the little favor your friend requested nearly got my best friend killed."

Jason glared at Rex, but otherwise ignored the subtle threat. He knew Rex was itching for a fight, but he refused to give him one. "Cordelia and I realized we were being followed. She called John to get us some help."

Rex looked over at John with surprise before that melted away to anger as well. Jason caught it and realized that John had left him out of the loop. "You knew about this?" He didn't let John answer before turning his gaze back to Jason. "Go on," he demanded.

"The Zacharra's warehouse was being raided and while there, we learned that Lesley Lu Spencer, Lucky's sister, was inside one of the warehouses that had a bomb inside." Jason still felt angry at Lulu for risking her life for Johnny. "Cordelia ran inside and before I could get to her, the helicopter she requested was landing to get us all out of there. She came back out and had been wounded, but before passing out she said Paul Wade was inside."

Everyone was quiet for a long moment before Rex spoke again. "So…she goes with you to do a favor for a 'friend'," he made air quotes around the word. "Then she ran inside to save the life of someone she never met knowing there was a bomb inside and gets shot in the process… and you come out of this unscathed?" Rex snorted derisively, "Sounds like a set up to me."

Jason didn't know why, but he snapped, and was on Rex in two seconds flat with John at his back trying to pull him off. "I didn't set her up!" he yelled. He couldn't explain his anger, could only see Cordelia's limp body falling into his arms.

"Could have fooled me!" Rex yelled and pushed Jason back as hard as he could. "Ever since she's met you, she's been in danger!" Patrick grabbed and held him back when it looked as though they were going to go into a full on brawl. John held Jason back as well.

"Stop it, both of you!" the female agent, Laurel Mason, yelled stepping between them. Neither man challenged her. "None of this is helping her!" She looked at Jason. "I don't know whether what Rex said is true or not, but I saw your face in the hub. I know you didn't set her up." She turned to Rex. "And if you think Cordi running to a building with a bomb to save even one life is unlike her, you really don't know her at all."

No one else said anything when Elizabeth walked upon them. She'd heard the commotion but didn't let on. "Ms. Roberts made it out of surgery. We got the bullet and she's stable." The blue-eyed nurse looked at each face wearily. "We're going to move her to ICU in a few minutes. We need to keep an eye on her for any clotting or internal bleeding." She looked directly at her husband and her lover before telling them, "You can see her soon, but I recommend one at a time." Elizabeth took her leave and turned to go back inside.

"You stay the hell away from her from now on, Morgan," Rex said after a moment. "Or so help me, I'll make you regret it," he threatened quickly before stalking off.

Patrick looked over Jason with anger before he, too walked off. Laurel returned to her seat to collect herself before going back out into the field, leaving John and Jason alone.

"I know you didn't set her up," he said quietly. He looked into the mob enforcer's eyes to show he meant it.

"But I think somebody else tried to," Jason replied. "Somebody knew we were coming."

"Yeah," John agreed. "But who?"


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21; _Treachery_:**

Claudia Zacharra sat patiently in the PCPD interrogation room waiting for her brother to be brought upstairs. She made a conscious effort to look worried and frightened, but at the same time in complete control. It was a very elegant dance that she'd perfected over the years.

Truthfully, she was bored.

She hummed a little song softly, her eyes glancing up at the door every so often. The officers of the PCPD were comical if they were nothing else, especially Detective Taggert. The man actually had the gall to believe that her brother was a weakness to be exploited. Actually had the nerve to believe that she was afraid of Trevor Lansing and her father. She let them think it. All of them, even Sonny and Jason, because they were easier to manipulate that way.

They had no idea the things she was capable of, the things she'd set in motion, and they wouldn't until it was too late. She felt a small smile creeping at the edges of her mouth and had to mentally check herself.

When the door opened and her brother was escorted inside, she was back to walking that fine line again. Johnny was thrust into the chair, Claudia glaring at the officer, un-cuffed before the officer left them alone in the room.

Johnny waited until he was sure the officer had moved from the door before speaking. "What are you doing here, Claudia?"

Claudia let the smile she'd bitten back show through. "Just being consistent, John," she told him. "What kind of loyal sister would I be if I let a single day go by and not visit my unjustly incarcerated brother?"

Johnny wanted to smile, almost did, but stopped himself. "Did you get the tape?"

Claudia nodded. "Lucky's idea came in handy. We've got Trevor on tape discussing the drugs and the girl's next port with that sick bastard." Claudia's face contorted in disgust. She made a face before saying, "Of course, if he knew he was being used, he wouldn't have been as helpful."

Johnny rolled his eyes. His sister's sense of humor was incredibly cynical. "I hear Paul was injured in the police raid on one of our warehouses?" Johnny let a small smile brighten his face. "I'm sure he didn't plan on being shot by the reporter."

"Seeing as how I saved his ass from spending the rest of his life in prison, taking a couple of bullets seems awfully fair. Besides, he got to shoot her back. Got her good last I heard."

Johnny nodded. "Our contact also said Lulu raced to the warehouse to find the tape. She heard us talking and decided to use it to prove my innocence and get it out of jail."

It was Claudia's turn to roll her eyes. "Honestly, I have no idea what you see in that stupid little idiot," she commented blithely.

"Same could be said for you and Ric," Johnny replied.

"At least Ric is useful."

"So is Lulu," Johnny responded. "Do you think Detective Spencer would have been so helpful if he didn't believe his little sister was in danger? And thanks to you making sure Paul repaid his debt and set that dummy bomb, she wouldn't have been."

"Yeah, everything fell into place better than expected. Even down to Morgan and the reporter being present." Claudia smiled again. "Sorry we had to sacrifice Nikolai and Ivan…"

"And Sergei," Johnny added reminding her of the assassin sent to attack Lucky Spencer in the hospital room. He would do away with that loose end tonight after lights out.

"…but… small price to be paid. Everything is going just the way we want it to."

"Don't get too cocky," he advised her. "There are still too many things that could go wrong."

"Like what?" Claudia asked. "Trevor doesn't know that we're really the ones in control. He thinks some big time Russian organization is in control and by the time he figures out it's been me all along, it'll be too late." She really relished the idea of making Trevor beg for his life. "Daddy has been pumped full of too many drugs to even realize that he's been brought home. And Corinthos and Morgan are going to be so busy fighting to maintain control of their 'empire' that they're not even going to realize it's crashing down around them."

"Are you forgetting Jerry Jacks knows there is no debt to be paid to the Russian mob? Are you forgetting that he's out there somewhere and we don't have eyes on him?" Johnny reminded her. "He'd sell you out in a heartbeat just for kicks."

"I'm not worried about Jerry Jacks," she said. "Jason Morgan will take care of him soon enough." Another smile, cold and calculating, crossed her red lips. "I've made sure of it." She grabbed Johnny's hand. "Don't worry, little brother, Trevor and Daddy will be killed in an uncontrollable mob war and you and I will emerge victorious. Trust me."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Running down the stairs of the penthouse after a fresh shower and putting on fresh clothes, Jason still didn't feel any better. He imagined the white tee shirt he had on was stained with Cordelia's blood. He'd tossed the black one that _was_ stained with her blood in the garbage, momentarily considered burning it in the fireplace. He'd scrubbed his skin raw, the anger he felt continued to manifest itself, but he couldn't shake the feeling of regret.

Rex had been right - _the little bastard_, Jason thought - ever since he'd encountered the green-eyed reporter, he'd brought into nothing but danger. He hated himself for that. Hated that every life he touched seemed to grow more dim. He was sure Cordelia would tell him to get over himself, that she made her own choices and could handle the dangers, but he felt she shouldn't have to.

Spinelli and Sam were sitting on the couch in the living room, looking over the files Spinelli had put together for them. They both looked up at him when he came into the room, and Jason could see the regret he felt shining in their eyes. He tried to shrug it away and get down to business.

"Okay," he said and sat on the other side of Spinelli so he could look at the screen, too. "What have you got?"

"I tapped into the feed of the camera just outside the denizens of darkness warehouse. I'm pulling up the footage all activity for the past two weeks," Spinelli answered. "The PCPD's system can only hold so much information and they have to delete data every two weeks in order to maintain their completely inferior system."

"Let's hope that whoever planted the video camera didn't do it more than two weeks ago, then," Jason said and watched various people flit across Spinelli's screen in fuzzy black and white grain.

Sam and Lucky showed up more than once, but Jason knew from Alexis what they were doing. Trevor, Claudia and Johnny showed up as well, but none of them carried a video camera. One the third day of last week, the man Jason recognized as Paul Wade and the man who looked like Cooper Barrett were seen together going into the warehouse.

Jason couldn't shake the feeling that they were being played with. That someone was setting all of this up, manipulating them all in some fashion. "Who, hey, go back," he said suddenly. Spinelli went back a little until Jason told him to stop. "Is that Jerry Jacks?" he asked, squinted to get a better view. Spinelli immediately enlarged the picture and cleared it until Jerry's face came fully into view. "Why the hell is Jerry at the Zacharra warehouse?" He asked aloud. "Let it play."

Spinelli did and a few moments later, Claudia showed up. They chatted for a few minutes, and Jason wished this lamppost camera came equipped with sound. He could tell from having watched Jerry enough that he was threatening Claudia.

"How long has Jerry been out of town?" Jason asked Sam.

"I don't know," she began. "A week?" She thought about it. "When the last shipment of drugs went out, he went with it."

Jason nodded, thought about that for a minute. "Do you know, or can you find out, where the shipment went?"

Sam was already ahead of him. "Venezuela is the first port. I don't know where it's going after that."

Jason nodded, was as good a lead as any. He excused himself and made a phone call to John. "I think I have a lead," he told the FBI agent. "I think the drugs the Zacharras are smuggling and the trafficking is connected…somehow."

"What makes you think that?" John asked.

"Spinelli pulled the footage of a lamp-post traffic camera near where the raid took place. Jerry Jacks was there talking to Claudia Zacharra last week. When the drugs shipped out, so did he."

"I'm not seeing the connection."

"When the drugs shipped out, so did the women," Jason replied.

John was quiet for a moment. Obviously wondering if he should tag along. "Where do you think he is?" He obviously knew about Jerry Jacks.

"Venezuela."

"Shit," John exclaimed. "You get caught and that's your ass. We got no jurisdiction there. Even Interpol won't interfere."

"I won't get caught," Jason assured him. "Somebody is messing with us and Jerry is the best place to start."

"Alright," John relented. "What do you want me to tell Cordi when she asks where you are?"

"Nothing," Jason replied and hung up quickly before his voice gave him away. He turned around to find Sam and Spinelli staring at him. "What?" he asked.

"You didn't ask about her," Sam spoke up when it was clear Spinelli wasn't going to. "You should have asked about her."

"She's fine. John would have said so otherwise," Jason pointed out.

"That's not the point," Sam retorted.

"What the hell is?" he asked, annoyed. He didn't want to think about Cordelia right now. He looked at Spinelli who made a show of keeping himself busy and out of the conversation. He knew when to push Jason and when to let his friend alone.

"I just thought she was your friend," Sam replied while standing. "I have to go," she announced suddenly. She retrieved her jacket from the back of the chair when she passed.

"Be careful," Jason warned her when she opened the door.

Elizabeth was standing on the other side and shared a tight look with Sam before one woman exited and the other entered. Jason stood facing his wife, wondering how much he should tell her. Spinelli excused himself all together.

"So Sam should be careful," Elizabeth said, her blue eyes full of tiredness and aggravation. "I guess that means more security will be showing up soon." She moved passed him and headed for the stairs.

"I'm leaving town for a day or two," he told her; no point in beating around the bush. "I think you should go stay with Audrey and the boys for a while."

Elizabeth looked up into her husband's face quietly searching his eyes. Her own eye grew cold when she realized what she feared was true. "You must care for her or something," she said.

Jason sighed. How many times had they been over this? "Sam and I are just friends, Elizabeth," he told her for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I'm not talking about Sam," Elizabeth snapped. "I'm talking about Cordelia Roberts." The sound of her name coming from Elizabeth's mouth put Jason on edge. He could see the anger flashing brightly in her eyes like a neon sign and knew she was gearing up for a fight. "I see you're not denying it."

"There's nothing to deny or confirm. I owe her a favor."

Elizabeth snorted. "Please, Jason. The only person you do favors for is Sonny….or Carly, and the way you were about to fight that man in the middle of the surgical floor over her isn't how you'd react if you only owed her a favor."

He didn't only owe her a favor. He did care for her. He hated himself for getting her involved in mob business and wished he were the one in that bed instead. His wife, however, was pushing buttons she intended to push and he was rising to the challenge. The problems they had started long before Patrick or Cordelia ever walked into their lives. "So now you care? Or is it because she's connected to Patrick?"

Only for a split second did Jason knowing about her affair with Patrick startle her, but she recovered quickly. "No, I don't care," she lied. She was so jealous she couldn't see straight and she didn't understand why. Half the time she wasn't sure she liked Jason anymore let alone loved him, but the concern he showed for the other woman touched the most basic of instincts in her. "I don't care who you sleep with on the side…" she knew he wasn't sleeping with anyone but wanted to hurt him anyway. "…so long as it doesn't affect my children. So, you go and play at being her knight in shining armor." She moved back towards the door, yanked it open and was saying, "You stopped being mine a long time ago," as she stepped through and slammed it closed behind her.

Jason stared at the door for a moment, wondering if he should go after her. He wondered what was left of his marriage to save and where the love he and Elizabeth once shared went. His marriage was another casualty he could chalk up to the mob.

He'd just finished making the necessary arrangements for protection of his family and for his trip when Spinelli came trudging down the stairs. He'd heard the fight and decided to offer support the best he knew how.

"Is there anything the Jackal can do to assist his master in this, his most darkest of times?"

Jason stared at his friend momentarily, almost as if he didn't see him standing there before shaking his head. "No, thanks. I'm going to get some stuff together. My flight leaves in a little while." He wanted to be in Venezuela and on Jerry's trail by first light.

Jason moved to go upstairs but Spinelli called him. "Stone Cold?" That stopped the enforcer in his tracks. He turned to face the teenager. "Though the Fair Samantha was brazen in her statements, the Jackal shares in her sentiment."

"What?" Jason asked, seemingly not understanding.

"You pledged your allegiance to the Ravishing Reporter, the Brave Cordelia, and vowed to help her bring her sister home. Now… you don't even inquire from the Dark Knight…" Jason was sure that he meant John. "… how Brave Cordelia is faring after taking a bullet to save The Blonde One." Spinelli stopped to take a breath. "Why?"

Jason sighed heavily. "Cordelia's fine. I didn't ask because… this is my fault. I didn't ask because I have no right to after I put her there."

"But, Stone Cold, you had no knowledge of the Devious One being in the warehouse with a bomb. You would have done the same thing Brave Cordelia did by rushing in."

"But she wouldn't have been around me at all if I hadn't had her kidnapped. I wouldn't have felt I owed her and none of these things would have happened to her."

Spinelli considered this. "Maybe, but your theory is based on the presupposed assumption that your paths wouldn't have crossed eventually."

Jason considered that. It didn't surprise him to think they probably would have at some point. Had he followed the leads on his own about who blew up the warehouse, he was sure they would have. Still… he couldn't help but feel responsible.

"Maybe, maybe not," he replied. "But I do know this… she's safer right now being away from me."


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22; _The Fury_:**

Sonny Corinthos mood was changing from annoyance to anger. He'd been in the hospital only two days and everything had gone to shit. His overseas contracts were pulling out of their deals due to the looming mob war between his organization and the Zacharra's. His men were being stretched too thin between protecting their front and attacking the Zacharras, not to mention warding off the attacks of a few brave (but stupid) rival families that tried to overtake them during a weak moment.

Things were falling apart and Sonny had spent the better part of the last four days putting things back together as best he could.

He'd made sure his family was protected, assured his overseas contract that them breaking their deals was completely _out _of the question, and he made sure that any rival family that sided with the Zacharras or tried to wrestle his territory from him knew that they wouldn't be able to overtake it so easily. Not to mention ruin any hopes of any future alliances should they need it.

Of course, all of that would have gone easier if he'd had his chief enforcer helping out, but he hadn't seen Jason in five damn days. Oh, he knew where his friend was - his best friend - the one he relied on more than any other. He was off gallivanting in Venezuela; playing the white knight to some stuck up assed reporter _(You really are stupid, Mr. Corinthos. I guess that's the norm, now though; an idiot trying to be a businessman_, he remembered her saying) while he was needed here at home.

It bothered Sonny at first, the way Jason pleaded her case, since he still wasn't all that convinced that she wasn't aligned with the Zacharras. However, when Jason asked a personal favor of Milo - one of Sonny's men - Sonny began to wonder exactly where Jason's loyalties lied. He'd asked Milo to watch the reporter - Cordelia or something, he couldn't remember - while he went to check something out. He requested that Milo keep his distance, but to make sure she was safe…at all times…even from herself. To say that Sonny found that odd would be a vast understatement.

He remembered Jason saying that Jerry Jacks had information about the drugs being passed through their ports by the Zacharras and wanted to find out if that had anything to do with this dreaded mob war, but as the days rolled by and he hadn't heard from Jason, Sonny really began to wonder what his friend was doing. He resisted the urge to have Jason followed, that would be a huge sign of disrespect, but, after all, this was a business affair and Sonny was - is - the head of that.

"Boss?" Max's voice was a welcomed intrusion to Sonny's thoughts - he really didn't like the way they were turning out. He turned with a scowl he couldn't suppress. Max didn't falter; he was used to Sonny's moods. "Ms. Howard is here to see you."

Sonny nodded, knowing that it was more of a question than a statement. He had been so busy that he'd told his men that no one got to see him without advanced warning - not even his children (though he made time for them always). He could imagine what Kate was doing here, though.

And seeing her face when she stepped through the door confirmed it.

"You're here to say goodbye?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question.

Kate looked flustered for a moment, but recovered quickly. In an instant, she was Kate Howard again, the Ice Queen and Connie Falconeri (the teenager who loved Sonny a long, long time ago) was again buried under glitz and prestige.

"Maybe you should just say it and leave town for a while," Sonny suggested, not really seeing the need to drag this out any longer. "Go back to Manhattan for a while. Stay with some friends."

Kate smiled bitterly for a second. They both knew she didn't have friends. She looked up into his eyes and hoped to see something in them. Something that would make her want to change her mind and stay. She loved him, had planned to marry him at the end of the year, but lately when she looked at him (if she got to see him at all) she saw him lying in a pool of his own blood in her arms. She saw a gunman look down at them with a smile while pointing a gun in her face. She saw the dangers that surrounded him and wondered if there was a place for her between all the bullets.

"You're not even…" her voice faltered, trailed off when the weight of what she wanted to say crashed down upon her. "You're just going to let me go?" Her light brown eyes welled with tears. "You said you loved me… that you wanted to marry me."

Sonny sighed deeply. He dropped his glass of scotch on the wet-bar. "I do love you, Kate, and I would have married you." His hands rose and fell in a helpless gesture. "But this is who I am… this is what I do and if letting you go keeps you safe…" He didn't finish, didn't need to.

"Maybe when things are better…safer…?" She hoped.

"There will be something else," he told her. Again, no point in dragging this out. "There will always be danger. Always… It's better if you get out now." He hoped she could see what he was doing. Hoped that she would understand and take the opportunity while it lasted. Carly was too stubborn to get out when she had the chance and Alexis had taken it before they'd even really begun. Sonny hoped she would see that…and maybe one day, forgive him.

Nodding, defeated and heartbroken, Kate gathered all the strength she could. "Take care of yourself…" she said and turned to leave.

"You, too," he said back.

She walked out the door without looking back at him and when Max closed the door behind her, Sonny felt all the anger he'd been suppressing rise to the surface. He picked up the glass and threw it against the mirror behind his desk. The pieces of mirror and glass shattering when they connected and falling to the floor in a broken clutter.

Max opened the door to the mess, not daring to glance at Sonny while the mob boss stared out the glass door to his terrace. The large bodyguard almost hated to interrupt him, but knew the next guest was whom Sonny was waiting on.

"Boss?" Max called timidly. He didn't wait for acknowledgement from Sonny before announcing, "Claudia Zacharra is here."

The sound of Claudia's heels assaulting his wooden floors was enough to get Sonny to turn and face her. The brunette looked over him smugly, obviously having encountered Kate on her way out. Sonny had to fight the urge to throttle her.

"You summoned me?" Claudia said, taking a seat on his sofa.

"I have some questions for you and you're going to answer them or Trevor and your daddy will be the least of your worries." Sonny decided to get right to the point. "Why the hell is Jerry Jacks in Venezuela, and what does Jason feel the need to track him down for?"

He thought he saw Claudia smile, but he couldn't be sure. "Last I saw, Jason was at the hospital."

"Today?" he asked. That was news to him. He didn't even know Jason was back. "Why were you there?" he wanted to know.

"Visiting a friend," she lied.

"What friend?" Sonny demanded.

"Cordelia Roberts," she said. "She was injured in a gun fight in my family's warehouse, you know that." He did. He didn't know that she knew the reporter. "I think Jason was going to see her as well."

"Why?" Sonny asked, his temples throbbing with anger. "How do you know her?"

"We go way back," she answered, examining her nails.

"You're pushing it," he told her.

"What do you expect? You're asking me about Jerry Jack and Jason Morgan, one: like I would know anything, and two: like I would give a shit."

He was on her in two seconds, yanking her up off the couch by her arm. "I think you're forgetting that you owe me! I know of your plot to kill Trevor and Daddy Dearest and about the black market drugs, don't forget that!" He shoved her towards the door, hard. "Now, I'm giving you 24 hours to find something out, or all your little dirty secrets are coming out, understand? You work for me, Claudia. Your freedom for trying to kill me comes at a price."

For her part, Claudia looked visibly upset. Sonny didn't know that on the inside, she was laughing at him. If he did, she knew he'd probably kill her. He was playing right into her hands. Fool.

"Cordelia was in daddy's pocket once upon a time," she said, her voice shaking just the way she knew he expected. "How do you think we stayed out of the media for so long?" She turned to leave, her smile peeking through a little when she turned her back on Sonny.

He couldn't believe it. Wasn't sure if he wanted to. Jason had told him the reporter wasn't aligned with any mob families but wouldn't tell him what she was doing in Port Charles in the first place. He wouldn't tell him anything about her…period.

Sonny thought about calling Spinelli and ordering the kid to find some information on her…outside of what he already knew. He doubted, however, that the teenager would be helpful since he was loyal to Jason.

Had Sonny been thinking clearly, he'd have wondered why she'd need protecting from herself. Wondered why Jason was so adamant about that.

There was only one thing to do.

He picked up the phone, hit a series of numbers, and waited. "Yeah. It's Sonny. Bring her to me."


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23; **_**Things You See In a Graveyard**_**:**

_When next Cordelia opened her eyes, she was face to face with a ghost from her past. The pain radiating from her side was nothing compared to the look in her ex-husband's eyes as he sat next to her hospital bed. _

"_You're in the ICU ward of General Hospital," he told her softly. "You were touch-and-go for the past two days but…" He fought the urge to caress her face. "You're going to be fine now."_

_She licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak, but Patrick stopped her._

"_Don't try to talk," he told her. His chocolate eyes were full of emotion. She couldn't pinpoint one emotion exactly…there were so many. Anger, sadness, relief…and love. He diverted his eyes briefly, looking everywhere but at her. "I know that's a hard concept for you," he tried a joke, even tried to smile and found the action and sentiment lacking. _

_He looked over at her, finding her looking at him with frightened eyes and tears that wouldn't fall. Patrick sighed heavily, feeling again, for the first time in years, all the feelings he's tried to suppress since the day she left._

"_Uh," He cleared his throat. "I had….so many things I wanted to say to you, if I were to ever see you again," he continued. "But… I never expected to see you again…here… and like…" His mind flashed to her almost dying while on the operating table when they had to open her up again. "…that."_

_Cordelia's mind screamed for her to say something to him. Anything to make him understand why she left him the way she did. Anything to… but her mouth remained firmly shut._

"_But…now that you're here," he continued while looking deeply into her eyes. "I can't…" Tears slipped down his cheeks. He rose from the chair and walked to the door. He knew all about the horrors she'd experienced in Iraq, had even seen some of the scars, and it broke his heart. _

_He looked back at her, this stranger with the face of his ex-wife. They were different people now, he could see that. He knew the type of person he became after she left. One devoid of any emotional attachments. He seemed to fear they would all end up the way his previous relationship had. He focused entirely too much attention on his work and slept with married women so he wouldn't have to feel even an iota of what he felt when his wife walked out on their life together._

_He wasn't so sure who she became._

"_I'm glad you're alive," he said and left the room._

_Closing her eyes, Cordelia felt the familiar stab of pain in her heart. "I'm sorry, Patrick," she whispered, the tears finally falling._

Cordelia awoke to the darkness of her hospital room. She was alone, that much she knew, since Rex or John always had the TV on when they were with her. Come to think of it, where the hell were John and Rex? It took her a second to remember that John was in Manhattan, having checked out the license plate of the car that chased her and Jason to an apartment in the city. Rex had, after gentle and some _not so gentle _prodding from her, went to the psych ward to try to get something out of Paul Wade. The poor bastard had taken a leave of his senses the moment he woke up in the hospital under police protection. She would have liked to talk to that bastard herself but knew he probably wouldn't tell her anything.

It took her another minute to get her bearings. Her head was spinning still from the crippling headache she had earlier and the nightmares that plagued her still clung tightly to her.

Something was wrong. She could feel it; after having been in the hospital for five days, she's become accustomed to the sounds. Not once in all five days has this hospital been that quiet. There was always some type of noise, be it a cart being pushed, nurses standing around talking, or other patient's televisions.

Tonight, however, there was nothing. Not even a loud late-night talk show that Mr. Willis (the patient in the room adjacent to hers) insisted on watching every single night. Rising from the bed took great effort, but she managed to do so. Her bare feet hit the cold, linoleum floor but she hardly felt it. Her senses were focused elsewhere.

She thought she heard footsteps coming from down the hall, and she immediately went into survival mode. Not being able to take her medication for five days made that a bit easier. She pressed her ear to the door and listened.

_Boots_, she deduced.

Cordelia looked around the room to find something to defend herself with. She wished she had her SIG, but it was against hospital policy. Probably best, in her current state of mind, everyone would have probably been murdered. There was nothing sharp, not even a glass bottle she could break.

When her eyes landed on the pillows, she was inspired. Moving quickly from the door (or as quickly as she could manage) she removed the pillowcase on one and maneuvered the pillows under the covers to appear that she was still in the bed. She'd moved just behind the door when the footsteps stopped in front of them.

It opened slowly while Cordelia wrapped both edges around her hands. She pulled it tight and waited for the man to walk closer to the bed. He hadn't turned on the light and that confirmed her thought that he was not there for a social visit.

He stepped closer to the edge of the bed and she stealthily moved from the door, wrapped the pillowcase around his neck, and pulled with all her might. He wasn't much taller than she was, something that worked in her favor, but he was incredibly strong. He tried to turn to shoot her, but his hands fell to his side when the gun went off and the bullet grazed her leg, just barely missing her foot. Raising her leg, she put it in front of one of his legs and pushed his forward, bringing him down slightly so she could put more pressure on his throat. He sputtered and struggled, staggering a little lower so she kicked his hand, hoping to knock the gun loose but miscalculated and ended up being pushed down when he lurched backwards.

Cordelia fell to the floor and just barely managed to leg sweep her assassin before scrambling up and running out the door when he fired again.

Running down the corridor as fast as she could, she realized that none of the nurses were at their post. She headed for the stairwell and taking the steps two by two, made her way down to the next level. Kicking the door open, she heard her assailant push through the doors of the upper landing. She ran past the OR nurse's station (no nurses there either) and was going to hide in one of the closed off areas when a large hand wrapped around her face and waist.

She was pulled into a janitor's closet, the door closing softly in front of her, before the person set her down on her feet. She was turned and pushed against the door, her eyes landing on Jason, as soon as the assailant's footsteps were heard passing outside.

Cordelia looked at Jason as if she wanted to shoot him. This was probably some more of his handy work. He'd set her up before… someone had said.

Picking up on her thoughts, Jason looked her square in the eyes. "Trust me," he whispered. He could see the gleam in her eyes and knew she wasn't herself. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not. "We're going to have to move soon. He's going to be back as soon as he's done checking rooms."

"You owe me some answers," she told him succinctly. "A lot of them. Like where the hell you've been for the past five days and why the hell…"

"Shh," he commanded of her. "Here, take this." He handed her a gun. "We have to move now."

Quiet, and willing to follow him for the moment, Cordelia allowed Jason to open the door slowly. He looked out first, and then stepped out, taking lead in case the man chasing her was closer than expected. He motioned for her to come out.

"Where the hell are all the nurses?" Cordelia asked looking around at the deserted surgical floor.

"Rotation change," Jason answered, knowing the answer since his wife was a nurse. "The mid-shift nurses are all checking on critical patients to report back for the shift-change. They're only gone ten minutes."

"Just enough time for someone to try and kill me," Cordelia replied.

"I don't think he wants to kill you," Jason told her. He had a good idea what the man wanted.

"You would know…" she said and heard something behind her.

The man was coming straight for them, gun raised but not taking a shot. Cordelia aimed to shoot him, but Jason intervened. The man, who felt he was close enough to take a shot now, caught Jason in the back as the enforced shielded Cordelia. He went down with a grimace in front of her.

Reacting on pure survival instinct, Cordelia shot the man. He went down with the first bullet. The sound of his body hitting the floor resonated loudly in her ears. She looked down at Jason with concern. "You're hit," she said.

"So are you," he said, taking notice of the wound on her leg.

"Just a graze," she replied. She stood, turning to go find a nurse when Jason grabbed her ankle.

"We have to go now."

"You're hurt. You need medical attention," she told him.

"There will be more men coming for you," he said, and it was obvious that it hadn't occurred to her. "We have to go."

Kneeling down in front of him, "How bad are you?"

"I can move," he told her.

"We'll see," she said and put her arm under him to help him stand. It felt like trying to move a brick wall with a feather. "You have to help me, Jason," she told him.

He stood as best he could, his feet wobbling beneath him and she helped him to the elevator, figuring it would take them a long while to make it down the stairs. She pushed the button for the underground garage.

"We can't take your bike," she said. Scanning the area, "Hang on." She helped him lean against the wall, waving him off when he told her to hurry up.

She ran a couple of feet to the nearest car; and taking the butt of her weapon, she smashed in the driver side window and unlocked the door. Hopping inside, she yanked out the panel under the steering wheel and hotwired the car.

She peeled off and drove up to him, then hopped back out the car to help him get inside. Once she was certain he was secure (Jason wincing in pain when his wound touched the seat), she ran back to the driver's side and sped off into the night.

"Where the hell can we go? Another hospital?" she asked. "You have to get that bullet out."

"No, not another hospital," he said. "We'll be sitting ducks. Go to the safe house."

"Jason," she breathed out when the pain in her side finally reached her brain. "Are you forgetting you still have a bullet in your back? It has to come out."

Jason hissed when his back hit the seat again. "Shit!" he exclaimed with the pain. "You can take it out," he told her, his forehead dripping with sweat.

"What?" she asked. "Are you out of your mind? You need a doctor."

"No doctors…" He sucked in air forcefully. "…have to get to safety." He looked as though he was going to pass out. Indeed, he barely heard her calling his name. "Please…"

"I don't understand," she began. "If we just go to another hospital…"

"That was Sonny's man," he told her. "He was coming to kidnap you. Sonny has eyes and ears all over the city because of the mob war."

"Okay, but doesn't the safe house _belong_ to Sonny? Wouldn't he think to look for me there?"

"He doesn't know I'm with you. He'll think Rex or John saved you."

"Jason…" She didn't like the sound of that. She knew Rex and John could take care of themselves, but still…she didn't like putting them in unnecessary danger. Maybe she could get word to them, but what the hell was she going to do with Jason should Sonny realize that it was him who saved her. She also didn't know whether to believe him or not. Especially when she thought he'd set her up before.

"Just go to the safe house," he said. "We'll be safe there."

"Okay," Cordelia relented. She really had no other choice.

"Trust me," he said before passing out.


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24; _Impact_:**

_Sonny was standing at the terrace doors looking outside when Jason walked into his living room at Greystone. The enforcer could tell something was amiss with his friend and it sent a chill down his spine. Jason had only gotten that feeling a handful of times before in regards to Sonny, and each time preceded Sonny having a manic episode and chaos ensuing._

_Bracing himself for the worst, Jason placed his most appeasing expression on his unshaven face. "Sonny," he called to the mob boss. His tone of voice was loud but not commanding._

"_What'd you find out?" Sonny asked before Jason could speak again. He didn't turn around to face his friend, afraid the deadly gleam in his eyes would betray his actions. Jason, most certainly, wouldn't like that he'd dispatched two men to go to the hospital and to abduct the reporter._

"_I found Jerry in Venezuela," Jason answered, walking further into the room. When Sonny turned, he saw the look in the older man's eyes that he tried to hide. "The Zacharra's are shipping black market drugs to ports all over the world, but the main concentration is Iraq."_

_He watched Sonny's eyes grow dark with interest. The mob boss licked his lips and took a sip of his drink slowly._

"_Why?" Sonny asked after a long moment._

"_I don't know. I'm thinking it has something to do with somebody selling to both sides. Those black market drugs are usually used for interrogations…" Jason wanted to ask what was going on, but thought the better of it. Sonny would probably just lie._

_They stood there silently for a moment. A standoff between friends, employer/employee… neither one giving in and cracking under the pressure. _

"_Did he give you a name?" Sonny wanted to know. "They can't be doing this alone. Anthony is in no shape, Trevor isn't that ambitious and Johnny and Claudia…" he trailed off. "They'd need help."_

_Jason agreed but shook his head. "No. He didn't give me a name. He wasn't exactly… willing to part with the information he did give me."_

"_How'd you get him to talk?"_

_Jason thought about that briefly, flashing back to the things he did to get Jerry to talk. "You don't want to know."_

_Sonny nodded sagely, knowing that to be code for something terrible. "Is he still alive? You know this will be the first place Candyboy comes to when he finds out his brother is dead." Sonny rolled his eyes. "Like Jerry doesn't have enemies all over the world."_

"_He's alive," Jason began. "But while he was giving me information, someone shot him in the head." Both men briefly flashed to Sonny's teenage son Michael being shot in the head and the resulting coma he was currently in. "He's in a coma in a Venezuelan hospital."_

"_Well…" Sonny sipped his drink again and swallowed hard. "I won't be losing any sleep over that." He looked Jason up and down skeptically. "How long have you been here?"_

_Jason's brow furrowed deeply. "I just landed. Why?"_

_Sonny didn't answer right away. Instead, he stared into Jason's eyes briefly to see if he was being lied to. "Just wondering if I should put you to work right now for all the days you've missed," he tried a joke. He wouldn't dare tell him that Claudia said she'd seen him going to visit that reporter at the hospital. "Go home, you're probably tired. We'll talk in the morning."_

_Jason nodded and turned to leave. It wasn't like Sonny to be so… accommodating. Something was definitely wrong. When he got outside to his motorcycle, he pulled out his cell phone and called Milo. Jason felt the chill return to his spine when Milo told him that Sonny had Giovanni - someone used only for assassination attempts when Jason was unavailable (which he rarely was) - relieve him from his assignment of protecting Cordelia._

_He raced to General Hospital as fast as he could with the gleam in Sonny's eyes haunting him the entire way._

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

"Are you absolutely certain about this?" Cordelia asked while walking into the back bedroom. Jason was sprawled on his stomach, his head and chin resting on his hands while a pillow rested underneath his stomach. "Because I can have you at a hospital in twenty."

Cordelia walked over to the bed, her bare feet treading the carpet nervously, carrying a basin full of warm water. She put it on the nightstand next to a bottle of vodka, a pocketknife, a lighter, needle, thread, and a few bandages.

"I'm sure," he said stiffly. Sweat dripped down his forehead. It amazed them both that he'd regained consciousness as quickly as he did. However, Cordelia did have to drag him in the house as best she could.

"Fine," she breathed out and handed him the rolled up towel she'd tucked under her arm. "Here." She sat down on the bed, careful not to jostle him. "You're going to need it."

Jason took it from her and eyed it suspiciously. "What for?" he asked.

"Something to bite on," she replied and reached for the knife on the nightstand. "Okay," she sighed while grabbing the collar of his shirt.

Cutting downward, Cordelia was careful not to choke him or touch the wound; still, even that was a lot easier than maneuvering it over his head. Opening the shirt, she noticed the healed scars just below the nape of his neck and the two down on his left side. The wound below the nape was a cut, perhaps his attacker underestimated his strength, but the two on his left side were healed stab wounds. She fought the urge to trace them with her fingers, and hated how much they reminded her of her own scars. She also fought hard not to dwell on the fact that his back was well sculpted.

Tentatively, she reached out and touched his skin.

Jason sucked in air through his teeth when her tiny fingers delicately examined his wound. He could feel the tension coming off her in waves, and wanted to put her at ease somehow, but the pain in his body was preventing his mind from cooperating. He was having a hard enough time thinking clearly where she is concerned in the first place. They wouldn't be in this mess if he had never gotten involved with her. If he'd never gone against Sonny…

"At least it's not too deep," Cordelia said and dropped her hand from his back. She reached over and picked up the bottle of vodka. She still had reservations about this since a lot could go wrong. She thought about listing them all to him as reasons she should take him to the hospital - _it could get infected, the bullet could have fragmented and gone deeper in your back _- she decided to keep them to herself though. Jason would, most likely, shoot the idea down - pun very much intended. "Should only take a few minutes to get it out… hopefully."

He winced and squirmed when she poured the vodka on the open wound. "Good," he said gruffly. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything…" Another hiss. "…but could you hurry it up a bit?" He felt her tensing again, nervousness taking hold (which was a bad thing for this). "I'm… sure you've done this before…" In fact, he knew she had. "You'll do fine."

"I've never had to fish a bullet out of someone's back and sew up the wound with a regular sewing needle and thread, Jason," she told him, sarcasm dripping from every word. In his current state, Jason couldn't retort properly.

She reached over and grabbed the lighter. Running the bright orange flame across the edge of the blade, she sighed heavily. They both knew that she and the other captives in Iraq patched up their own wounds sometimes. They couldn't really depend on their captors for proper medical treatment. Still…she hated the constant reminders of her time in that little wooden shack.

"Okay," she began softly. She looked over at him; he hadn't placed the towel in his mouth. "Jason, you're going to need the towel."

"I can take it," he replied gruffly. "Just… get it over with."

"Okay," she breathed out, her face clearly stating how unlikely it was that he'd get through this without screaming in agony. "This is going to hurt…a lot."

When the hot blade touched his skin, Jason thought it would be a good idea to bite down on the towel.

Twenty minutes later, the bullet sat in the bottom of the basin in a red pool of water mixed with Jason's blood. Cordelia had sewn up the wound as best she could, bandaged him and, with great effort, maneuvered him onto his side. She was just starting to clean up when Jason spoke again.

"Thank you," he rasped out.

Cordelia stopped and looked down into his face. He seemed calmer now (obviously), and that put her at ease. His blue eyes sparkled with something she couldn't quite place and when she looked over his bare chest and muscular frame, she felt a fire ignite in the pit of her belly.

It has been so long since she's been with a man intimately. The two inconsequential men after Rex were forgotten as soon as they left her bed. She hated to admit it, but there was just something about Jason that drew her in. She was attracted to him. Had been since the first time she laid eyes on him. If they were different people…perhaps they could explore that. Perhaps….

Turning her gaze away from him, she hoped he was too delirious to notice the look in her eyes. This really was not the time or the place. "Don't mention it," she told him. "And don't ever put me in the position to have to do it again, or I won't be nice and give you a towel to bite on." She smiled and started to move away when Jason reached out and grabbed her hand.

He looked up into her green eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see concern lacing them. He hoped she could in his eyes all that he wanted to say. How sorry he was for all of this. Her doe shaped eyes usually held such fierceness in them but tonight, it was as if all of that melted away. "I mean it," he said softly. "Thank you."

Cordelia nodded, her voice having left her temporarily. He looked so sincere. And so was she when she said, "Thank you for saving my life." She was thankful when he released her hand, and released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Get some rest."

"There should be some clothes in the hallway closet," he told her. "I know you want to get out of that hospital gown."

Nodding, while picking up some of the items from the nightstand. "Thanks," she said and headed to the bathroom before he could say something else or touch her again.

She found the clothes right where he said they'd be. A pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee-shirt. She took them into the bathroom with her, closing the door softly, and proceeded to remove the hospital gown that was covered in his blood.

Letting it fall to the floor, she eyed the scars across her body. Constant, permanent reminders of a time she'd rather forget, yet something else that linked her to Jason Morgan. She'd pulled a few stitches from her previous surgery while running from her would-be killer, and they were causing a bit of pain. Pulling off the blood-soaked bandage, she proceeded to patch herself up much in the same way she patched up Jason.

When she returned to the bedroom a few minutes later, fully clothed in the sweats and tee-shirt, she found Jason fast asleep. He was shivering and sweating more than he had been when she'd pulled the bullet out.

Touching his forehead gently, his skin felt warm. She'd feared this. It'd been raining when she had to drag him into the house. That, coupled with the archaic methods she used in patching him up, he'd gotten a fever.

She went to the bathroom as fast she could and wet a cloth with warm water. Returning to his side, she placed it on his forehead. Hoping that his fever wasn't as severe as it could be. Cordelia knelt down to examine his face. God, he was handsome; and he had a habit of making her emotions go to the extremes with just a look. She touched his cheek gently and brushed some of his hair out of his face. He looked pale because of losing so much blood and seeing him like this reminded her of Cooper. This entire evening has been one long walk through the past.

Standing, she pulled the covers over him gently. She walked to the other side of the bed, took note of the gun on the nightstand, and sat down. Several images ran through her mind, but the most prominent one was Jason.

She'd thought about him the whole time she was in the hospital. Of course, waking up and seeing your ex-husband was a shock to the system, but it was Jason's face that seemed to linger. Those eyes that she just couldn't quite gage. Even when she thought he'd set her up in the warehouse…she just couldn't get him out of her mind. She knew Rex and John wanted her to stay away from him, Rex especially, but she couldn't - wouldn't. She'd made her choice to accept his help. Made her choice to…

Lying back on the bed, she felt Jason shiver. She would have turned up the heat if she'd known where the damn thermostat was. Sighing, she rolled onto her side and pulling the covers up around his neck, she wrapped her arm around him. She tried to ignore the way he seemed to fit perfectly against her. Tried to ignore the scent of his skin. Tried to ignore the peaceful rising and falling of his chest against her hand.

She hoped his fever would break by morning. Sonny would surely be looking for them by then. Wondering why his chief enforcer saved a woman he'd marked for death.


	26. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25; _The Hunted:_**

Sonny hated bad news, and he knew that's exactly what Max was about to give him. Giovanni hadn't called to check in yet, immediately letting Sonny know that something was wrong. The older of the Giambetti brothers looked as nervous as Sonny had ever seen him. Maybe that was because Max hated lying to his kid brother. Sonny knew that, he just didn't care. He'd had enough of his men trying his patience.

"What is it?" he asked. It was nearly two in the morning and he hadn't been to bed yet. He had no intentions of sleeping tonight. At least, not until that bitch journalist was somewhere accessible.

Max sighed heavily. His big body tensing under the weight of his news. He swallowed hard. No other way to say it. "Giovanni… is dead."

Sonny's coal eyes remained passive for all of a second while he thought about what Max had just told him. Giovanni… dead? How could that be? He'd never seen a more skilled… well… other than Jason. The man could hear a pin fall on cotton, how in the hell?

"How?" he asked

"Shot to the heart."

The next breath Sonny took burned like acid in his lungs. His mind conjured many scenarios, none of them good. "Where… was he found?"

"The surgical floor of General Hospital," Max told him. Sonny ran a hand across his chin, his eyes screaming murder and Max continued on with all that he knew. "He waited until the nurse's rotation change when the mid-shift nurses checked on the critical patients. Gino saw him go into the building on the west side but…"

Sonny went to the phone, picked up the receiver and dialed a number from memory. He waited for an answer but didn't get one. "Was Jason's motorcycle found at the hospital?"

That seemed to throw Max off. "I… don't know, Boss." He stammered when Sonny slammed the receiver down. "W-we…didn't think to check." The thought that Jason could have saved the woman had never entered Max's mind.

"Go find out," he said before picking up the receiver again. Max hurried out of the door before Sonny started to speak again. "Stan… yeah, it's Sonny. I want you to find out everything you can about Cordelia Roberts. I mean, everything. I want to know what she holds dear in the world, you got me. Good." He hung up with every intention of ripping everything she held dear in the world away… starting with his best friend.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Oh, good, you're awake," Cordelia was saying while walking back into the bedroom. He hadn't been asleep that long, and hour tops. She eyed Jason trying to sit up in the bed and hurried to place the tray of food she carried at the foot of the bed to help him. "Hey, hey… hang on." She reached for him, taking hold of his side - the action sending little sparks through her that she tried to ignore - and helped him rest lightly against the headboard with a pillow behind him. "There…" she said with a little smile. "Better?" When he nodded, she moved away to retrieve the tray of food.

"What's all this?" Jason asked, slightly amused by the rising red tint in her cheeks.

Cordelia slid the tray of hot soup in front of him. "I found some soup in the pantry…" she told him. "I have to say, I'm very impressed with all the amenities you guys have here. I don't know why I thought a mob safe house would be… I don't know… sparsely furnished with a fold-out wall for guns or some shit." She laughed a little and looked around the massive bedroom. "Nothing like this."

Jason smiled genuinely. It was nice to see her like this. "Well, we try to move with the times." He forced his eyes to look away from hers when they fell into silence. He looked down at the food and his stomach rumbled in response. "I guess I'm hungry but…" a wave of nausea hit him. "I don't think I can eat."

"Well, you have to," Cordelia told him. She picked up the spoon and held it out to him. "You lost quite a bit of blood and you need your strength." She continued to hold the spoon out to him, her expression one of determination. Jason chuckled a little and took the spoon from her.

He struggled while he used his left hand to eat the chicken noodle soup she prepared for him since he was shot on the right side. "Okay, I don't feel right eating and you haven't."

"What makes you think I haven't?" she asked. He pointed accusingly at her stomach when it rumbled and she rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said and sat on the bed. She reached over and took a few of the crackers she'd laid out for him. Stuffing one of them in her mouth, she smiled. "Happy?"

"For now," he said and tried to continue eating the soup but found it difficult with his left hand.

Cordelia tried to hide the smile she got from watching him. He looked so… helpless; something she never thought Jason Morgan could be. Seeing him like this…and the way he looked earlier when he was asleep made her see him in a new light. She'd tried for a long time to see him as only Jason Morgan the Mob Enforcer but now she was seeing him as Jason Morgan the Man.

"Let me help," she said while moving closer to him. She took the spoon from him and dipped up some of the soup. When he held it out to him, he looked at as if she'd grown a second head. Cordelia blushed slightly when she said, "Was just trying to help."

"No, it's not that," Jason replied after a moment of silence. She dropped the spoon into the bowl when it seemed as if he had something important he wanted to say. Looking up at him expectantly, she waited. "Why are you… helping me?" he asked and it was clear from Cordelia's expression that it wasn't what she was expecting to hear.

With her brow furrowed, "Because you…" she laughed a little. "…you looked like you were having trouble."

Jason studied her face. She was hiding something. "No, I got that. It was just that… at the hospital you seemed… angry with me. I mean, I get why you helped me after I got shot but this is taking it a bit far."

She looked honestly offended. "Was just trying to help, Jason," she said and started to move away when his hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

"Don't do that," he said softly.

"Don't do what?" she asked, trying hard to regulate her heartbeat. She always had a hard time being close to someone - especially someone she was attracted to. What was worse was that she felt immense gratitude for him saving her life…more than once. That threw an all too genuine emotion into an already complicated situation. She forced herself to look into his eyes.

"Don't cover up whatever you're feeling out of gratitude. You don't owe me anything. You've saved my life just as many times as I've saved yours." He let her go. "If you're angry with me for leaving, say so. I know you have questions so ask them."

Cordelia felt...flustered. She'd never had anyone but Rex call her so easily on her emotions, and even Rex didn't do that with as much ease as Jason just did. It frightened her really, the way he knew her. It seemed uncanny that...somebody could see that deeply inside her soul.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Morgan," she replied. Shaking her head, she tried to clear her thoughts. The lack of medication made it hard for her to focus. Looking up into his blue eyes she asked, "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Save my life?" She scoffed. "Again... Why did you go against Sonny in the first place?"

It was Jason's turn to look away. "I explained that to you." He really couldn't explain it any better than he had. Especially when... he really didn't know why himself.

Nodding skeptically, Cordelia said, "Right. You said you felt guilty for having me kidnapped." She looked out into the living room where he'd held her captive and realized that was the moment that changed everything. Even then, they understood each other. "That doesn't explain why you saved me tonight. Especially now that Sonny obviously wants me dead."

That awkward silence fell between them again. Neither of them daring to look away so they stared at each other. It was a battle of wills with neither side winning. Jason thought about telling her that he cared for her, but he wondered if it would change anything. He'd still be married and she'd still have that pit-bull of a best friend whispering in her ear (_whispering, yeah right_, he thought) about how dangerous he was. Jason even knew Rex was in love with her... he knew a lot about Rex he was sure the PI didn't want Cordelia to know. And because he cared for her... he wouldn't tell her.

"Because...I care for you," he said thoughtfully, careful to not let on about the fact that he was attracted to her. "And I told you I'd help you get your sister home safely." He watched as she nodded sadly at the mention of her sister. "We're friends."

Jason thought he saw something break inside of her when he said that. Thought he saw something in her eyes but when she raised her eyes to his, whatever he saw was gone. She wasn't aloof but she was more distant than she'd been the whole night. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel those little spark shoot through his body again like they always did when they were together but he stopped himself.

"Right," Cordelia said softly. "Friends." She exhaled sharply and tried a small smile. "Well, _friend_, why don't you tell me what you found out while you were away."

Jason shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "I was in Venezuela following up on a lead." Cordelia shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed. "I don't know how familiar you are with Jerry Jacks..."

"Sociopath who held the MetroCourt hostage. Involved with everyone from the Russian and Italian mafia to the IRA in Ireland," she interjected. "He certainly gets around. What was he doing in Venezuela?"

"Apparently, working for the Zacharras. He's the liaison – for lack of a better word – for their drug operation." That was news to her so he clarified. "Part of the reason for the mob war is the Zacharras have been shipping through our ports. We've only recently found out that it's drugs."

"Okay..." She remembered him telling her about the DA's daughter Sam McCall working on the docks to uncover the drug ring. She was certain the information came from her. A curious thought struck her, "Why Venezuela?"

"That's just a first port," Jason said. "Have you ever heard of a man called Adriano Santos?" She shook her head. "He's the guy who took over the Alcazar territory down there. He's in league with the Zacharras and some foreign diplomat."

"Okay, I'm officially confused. Where do the drugs go?"

"All over the world," Jason told her. "But the main concentration is Iraq."

"Iraq?" Cordelia looked genuinely confused. She couldn't understand what... then it dawned on her. "The Zacharras are shipping black market drugs to Iraq and selling them to insurgents after they test them here in area hospitals," she answered her own question. She would think about that later, right now she had another question. "What does this have to do with my sister and the man who has taken her?"

He hated telling her this. "The girls are taken from all of the world, but most of them Iraqi as...payment for the drugs. They're rounded up by insurgents and..." His voice trailed off, he couldn't finish that. "The man who took your sister works for the Zacharras. When the drugs shipped out, so did the women." He touched her hand before telling her the next part. "They were put on different cargo ships and taken to different ports. Jerry was about to tell me where they take the women but he was shot in the head before he could get it out. He's in a coma in a Venezuelan hospital."

Cordelia felt her sister slip away another inch. She wondered if she'd ever see her again. "Okay... so Jerry isn't an option any longer. What's next?"

Jason let her go when it appeared she was becoming uncomfortable. "Santos is coming to Manhattan in two days for a meeting. He's trying to acquire some of the Alcazar territory in the States. He'll need friends to do that, so he's going to attend the Five Families meeting."

Catching on to his train of thought, "You want to attend that meeting?" she asked.

"No," Jason said. "I want to make sure he's unable to attend." He paused. "Maybe get some answers about where the other ship goes."

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Cordelia began. "You want us – and I say us because there is no way in hell I'm letting you do this alone and no, it is not up for discussion – to kidnap an arms dealer while he is on his way to a mob meeting? One that your employer will most likely attend. Did I forget to mention that your employer wants me dead? You still haven't explained that, by the way." She paused, lifted her hands in an amused gesture. "Assuming that we can... what makes you think he'll do anything to help us?"

Jason considered that. He wouldn't dare tell her that he already had a plan in mind... especially since it didn't involve Santos leaving the room alive. Instead he said, "We just need him to think that you have something to offer."

"Like what?" she asked incredulously.

"Money," he said. "We're going to make him think you're a potential buyer for the girls."

"Okay," she said. All of this seemed a little too risky for her. "Okay, so instead of kidnapping we're just...distracting him." Jason nodded. "Okay, fine. Provided we're even able to do that, what makes you think he'd believe that I want those girls for that reason?"

"Leave that up to me," he told her. "I'll take care of everything."

Cordelia didn't like the sound of that. It made her nervous. "Okay, fine. But you're forgetting something important. Sonny is on the rampage," she reminded him. "And I'm pretty sure that somebody who works for the Zacharras know you went to Venezuela and will be out for blood as well. We still have to wait two days for Santos to get here."

Jason looked over with fire in his eyes. "We just have to stay alive until then."


	27. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26; **_**Problems:**_

_Jason's footsteps echoed in the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Trujillo in Venezuela. The sleepy little port city was just like Port Charles in many ways. Jason had only been here once before on a mission for Sonny, but the contacts that he'd made helped him immensely in locating Jerry._

_Jerry, at this moment, sat tied to a chair in the middle of the warehouse. His face was bloodied, a few droplets had fallen to stain his crisp white shirt, and he hadn't slept since Jason captured him nearly a day ago. His demeanor toward the mob enforcer hadn't changed though, but Jason figured that it would once he told him what he'd found out._

_Sitting down in the chair he'd placed in front of Jerry with a thump, Jason opened the folder he carried to reveal photos of a beautiful Middle Eastern woman playing with young boy, no older than Morgan, who was the spitting image of how Jerry used to look before the madman underwent reconstructive surgery._

_Jason held up a photo, looked it over, then turned it to Jerry in the hopes to get some kind of reaction. It was only a flash in the man's eyes and it lasted only a second, but Jason caught it. "Beautiful family you have here, Jerry," his voice was condescending when he spoke. He tossed the picture into the man's lap and knew he was on to something when Jerry didn't look at the photo. "Your beautiful wife Aviva and your boy Jared. He looks like you used to. I guess all the plastic surgery in the world can't change genes." He wanted Jerry to know he knew their names. He watched as Jerry tried hard to bite back the threat he wanted to say. Pleased he was getting a reaction, he continued. "Your wife doesn't look Venezuelan and Aviva a middle eastern name." He tossed another picture to Jerry – their wedding photo. "I'm guessing she's not from here."_

"_This proves nothing, Morgan," Jerry said softly. He gently pushed the photo's of his to the floor. Jason knew the game he was playing, he'd done it himself many times before._

"_Sure it does," the enforcer goaded. "Proves that you've got something to lose."_

_Jerry flashed a sickening smile. "You don't have the guts," he said. "For all the talk of you being some great killing machine, you leave women and children unharmed," Jerry all but spat at him. "You don't have the guts."_

_Jason leaned back in the chair and dropped the manila folder to the side. He shrugged after a minute. "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it won't be me who does the job. I could always tell Sonny and he'll send somebody after them. Or I could ask Marco here..." the behemoth of a man who'd helped Jason find Jerry – and had subsequently given the Australian the beating of his life - stepped out from the shadows. "... go and bring them here and you all can have a happy reunion."_

_Jerry seemed to be considering his options and when Jason, who was calling his own bluff, stood to leave, the Australian spoke up. "Stop," he said, no higher than a whisper, but Jason heard him. Swallowing hard, Jerry said, "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just leave my family out of it."_

_Jason sat back down in the chair and looked Jerry over. For the first time, he looked like the man he used to be. He looked... frightened. "Start with the drugs..." the enforcer said._

"I never thought Jerry would cooperate so easily," Cordelia was saying while walking back into the room. Jason eyed the items she carried in her hands. "He doesn't strike me as the type who'd give a damn about anyone's life but his own."

Jason nodded, he was inclined to agree since he had personal experiences with Jerry. "The information checks out. Everything he said. From Ian Devlin being involved, to the ports, and the distribution... all of it's run like clockwork. There is some mastermind behind the scenes that runs everything, but... Jerry was shot before he could give me the name."

"Either one of you could have been followed," Cordelia told him. "Either somebody didn't want Jerry to spill his guts or somebody wanted you dead... or both."

"I have a feeling it's both," Jason said. He remembered getting shot at through the same window. It was definitely both.

Cordelia plopped onto the foot of the bed unflatteringly and tossed a yogurt cup and spoon at Jason. Adjusting the pillow behind her, she felt some of the tension in her side ease. Opening her own yogurt cup, which she felt would appease Jason who was hell-bent that she eat something, she noticed him eying her like she'd done something wrong...again.

"What?" she asked over a spoonful.

"What the hell is this?" he asked while picking up the yogurt cup and spoon. He read the label and looked back at her.

"What?" She had a wide grin on her face when she asked, "You don't like yogurt?"

Jason cut his blue eyes at her. "Do I look like a child?"

Smile lessening to a smirk, she answered, "No, you look like a man who's been shot and didn't finish the chicken noodle soup his friend went to great lengths to fix for him." She ate another spoonful. "Seriously, try it. You'll like it and it's good for you. Full of protein and vitamins."

"And how the hell do you know that?" he asked with annoyance but started to open the cup anyway.

"I've got a friend who used to work in intelligence who swears by them -- Michael Westen," Cordelia answered with a twinkle in her eye. "Great guy. Caught up with him the last time I was in Miami."

Jason nodded, he really didn't want to know about her friend, and ate a spoonful of the sugary treat begrudgingly. Cordelia started to laugh when he quickly went back for a second spoonful, but she stopped herself. Jason watched her expectantly, waiting for her to crack a smile, found himself wishing she would. He thoroughly enjoyed seeing her this way: completely at ease and unguarded. It made him wonder what she was like before her ordeal in Iraq. Wondered if she....

"You're doing it again," her voice broke his thoughts.

"What?" he asked softly. His heart had skipped a beat suddenly and he wasn't sure exactly why, but knew it was because of her.

"Staring at me," she told him. She got off the bed to retrieve her glass of water on the nightstand and Jason noticed how hard it seemed for her to move.

He looked at her with concern lacing his eyes. "Are you okay?" He mentally kicked himself for not thinking to ask her before. Bullet in his back and all.... "Your...wound. Did you do any damage by..."

"Dragging your heavy ass into the house?" she joked. "Tons." She smiled and when he didn't, "I popped two stitches..." He looked like he was about to raise up from the bed. "... but I repaired them and lean your ass back against the headboard before you get lightheaded and I really have to take you to a hospital."

Jason wasn't in a joking mood and knew he wasn't going to get a proper answer so when she started to move away, he grabbed her wrist to hold her in place. "Morgan, what the hell?" she asked but the next words that would have come out of her mouth stopped abruptly when she saw the concerned look in his eyes. Rolling her eyes, "Fine," she said and lifted up the edge of her shirt to show him the freshly bandaged wound on her stomach.

Jason thought the better of reaching out to touch the bandage – and her skin - and settled for nodding his head and dropping her wrist. He leaned back softly, trying to figure out what it was exactly about her that affected him so. Was it the way her eyes seemed to always find his or the way they hold no fear? Catching her gaze again, seeing the attraction she tried to fight, he started to think it was simply her that affected him.

She sat back down on the bed as best she could. "Okay, so... why does Sonny want me dead?" Cordelia asked, wondering why Jason was staring at her... again. "He can't still suspect me for the warehouse bombing, can he?"

Jason didn't know how to answer. He really wasn't incredibly sure himself, but he had an idea. "Sonny thinks that you're involved with the Zacharras," Jason told her plainly.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Why?" she asked. "Didn't you and Damien tell him point blank that I wasn't involved with the warehouse bombing and that I'm searching for my sister?"

Jason nodded, "Yeah," he sighed heavily. "But once Sonny gets an idea in his head -- especially now with the mob war going on -- he has a hard time letting it go."

Cordelia rolled her eyes again. "I told that idiot when he came to see me in the hospital that I wasn't working for anyone."

"Wait," Jason interjected. The look on his face was a mixture of worry and confusion. "Sonny went to see you at the hospital?"

Cordelia nodded and gave him a look of pure confusion. "You didn't know?"

"No," Jason's voice was grave and it sent a shiver down her spine. To see the usually calm mob enforcer visibly worried made her worry as well. "What did he say to you?"

She thought back to waking up in the intensive care unit three days ago and seeing the dark-haired mobster darkening her room's doorway. "Said he wanted to know what it was about me that made his men decide to not do their jobs. I assumed he was talking about you." She looked at him but his expression was unreadable. "We got into an argument and I called him an idiot." Jason rolled his eyes and smirked softly but she caught it before it disappeared. "I can see now that his ego is very fragile."

"Is that it?" he asked when she grew quiet.

She nodded. "More or less." She paused briefly. "Though he did allude to the fact that he thinks I set you up in going to the police raid."

Jason looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"He said that it was awfully convenient that I was put in a position to go and save Johnny Zacharra's girlfriend from a gun-wielding errand boy of the Zacharras."

"But you were shot," Jason said, anger evident on his face.

Cordelia shrugged. "He seems to think that my wound was part of the set up. I don't think it helped matters when I didn't tell him my connection to Paul Wade."

"John mentioned that he talked to him while I was in Venezuela…"

"John knew you were in Venezuela?" she interrupted him, her eyes dark. "That jerk," she said a few seconds later. "I asked him point blank if he knew where you'd run off to and he said nothing. Still said nothing when I thought you were the one who set me up."

"Don't be angry with John," Jason said softly. "I asked him not to tell you -- I kind of made him promise me he wouldn't."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. Her anger subsiding temporarily -- well, shifting really toward him. "Why?" There was no softness in her voice or her eyes.

"Because it's my fault that you got shot in the first place."

Cordelia looked at him -- simply stared at him for the longest time before she burst out laughing. He didn't see what was so funny about that, and that only made her laugh more. Her laughter subsided after a moment and she wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks.

"I'm sorry but you are the most compassionate mobster I have ever met," she said with a wide grin. "It's very… amusing." She leaned forward and touched his hand. "You did not get me shot. I got myself shot for being bull-headed like I always am."

"Yeah," Jason began, slyly looking down at her hand on his. Inwardly enjoying the contact. "But if I hadn't had you kidnapped you wouldn't have been in a position to get shot. I'm the one who decided to go get Sam after Alexis needed help."

"And I'm the one who told you I wasn't going to let you do that alone," she returned. "And if you hadn't kidnapped me, I wouldn't have gotten this far. I never would have known how deep this conspiracy goes with the women and the drugs if not for you. Rex, John and I would have probably hit a ton of dead ends by now."

Jason doubted that. All three of them were resourceful. "I doubt that."

Cordelia smiled and pulled her hand away as she leaned back against the pillows she'd propped up behind her. "Okay, probably not, but it's a lot easier to work with you instead of being on the outside in this mob war. At least you're an ally against the Zacharras."

They fell into silence. Neither knowing exactly what to say before Cordelia spoke again.

"I do find it funny that Sonny knew who Paul Wade was," she said. "And how he would even piece together that we were connected."

Jason nodded. He had an idea how Sonny knew that. His first call in the morning would be to Spinelli. "Did you ask him?"

"No. I was so angry that I called security and had him escorted out." Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"I think someone is messing with us," he said softly. Cordelia could see he was trying to figure something out in his mind but kept coming up empty. "Someone has to be putting ideas in Sonny's head about you -- us."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her brows drawn together in confusion.

Jason looked at her, his blue eyes displaying a vast array of emotions. "I keep thinking back particularly about the raid on the docks," he said. "I'm sure it started even before then -- possibly with the explosion at the warehouse meant for Sonny, but, the raid in particular is what makes me think we're being set up."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "That only makes sense in your head, Morgan," she replied. "Can you tell me what in particular about _your particular _makes you think we're being set up?"

"First, those Russians that were following us," he said. "How did they know we were at the police station in the first place?"

Cordelia thought back, she did find it peculiar. Nodding her head slightly, her eyes flickered away before back to his. "Okay, what else?"

"The raid on the docks," he supplied. "Only the two of us, Alexis and John knew we were going to rescue Sam. I don't see the Zacharra's randomly blowing their shipments yet there were bombs?"

Cordelia frowned. "Sam said that was because the men…" her mouth opened and closed abruptly. "…they got tipped off somehow."

Jason nodded. "Yeah. What if the person who tipped them off, was having us trailed as well."

Cordelia thought about it. It made sense, and at the same time really didn't. "Okay, but that means that the person knew for sure we were going to be at the docks. And they couldn't have."

"Maybe," he said, his mind still in overdrive. "But it takes days for the police to put together a raid. They have to learn the layout and exits and everything," he continued.

"You're thinking the Zacharra's knew about it all along?" she asked, brows drawn together still.

Jason nodded. "What if the Zacharra's have a mole in the PCPD?"

Both of them were quiet for a long moment.

"Then we've got a world of problems."

* * *

* **Michael Westen** is the main character on the USA Network show _Burn Notice_. I do not own him, but I wish I did. ;-D


	28. Chapter 27

**Author's Note:** I'm evil. I know I'm evil and make no excuses for it. Harlan Barrett is dead. He was killed by Bill Eckert. But he's very much alive in this story. Also, in the show, he was played by Michael Cole. But, when you read this, think of Roscoe Born(Mitch Lawrence:OLTL/Tom Fisher:Y&R) because he has the look I envision *my* version of Harlan to have. Also...when you think of Annalise Roberts, envision the lovely Christel Khalil(Lily Winters-Ashby:Y&R). That is all. :) Oh, did I mention I was evil?

**Chapter 27; **_**The Damned**_**:**

Several eyes were upon her as soon as she stepped through the door.

Claudia walked inside the office with her head held high, exuding the confidence she lacked. The two large men by the door looked at her with visible contempt and left the room after receiving a subtle nod from their employer. She couldn't see it, but she was sure both of those men had a powerful hand weapon on their person. She expected nothing less for the men charged with protecting a United States ambassador.

"Claudia," Harlan Barrett greeted her with a cold smile. "Welcome to Amsterdam." He moved from around the desk to the wet bar toward the right of the desk. "I hope you had a pleasant flight."

Claudia stood at the front of his desk, feeling the uneasiness in her stomach growing rapidly. Harlan Barrett was a powerful man. He'd summoned her to Amsterdam two days ago and Claudia knew it was in her best interest not to keep him waiting. She looked over at the young man seated on the sofa against the left wall and braced herself. As soon as she turned around to face Harlan, the back of his hand slammed across her face and sent her reeling to the floor.

Harlan stood over her, his dark eyes were menacing as he looked down at her, and sipped his drink. The young man on the sofa smirked devilishly as Claudia picked herself up off the floor and held her hand to her right cheek. Harlan handed her the glass and she slowly pressed it against her burning cheek. She didn't need a mirror to know that her face was red. Luckily, she wasn't returning to Port Charles straight away; she would have a hard time explaining the mark to her brother.

In fact, Johnny didn't even know about this trip -- didn't _need _to know. There were some things her brother just wouldn't understand.

"You had one job, Claudia," Harlan said while returning to his chair on the other side of the desk. "To bring her to me."

"It's not that easy," she began, her cheek stinging with every movement of her jaw.

"She's one woman," Harlan replied sitting down. He leaned back against the leather and clasped his hands together. His eyes grew colder as he continued to stare at her. "Is it a difficult task to have her follow the clues I've so carefully planned out?" He glanced at the other man in the room and shook his head. "She was led to Port Charles where you were supposed to have your men apprehend her."

"She's not an idiot," Claudia said, taking extra care in making sure her voice held no hint of a challenge. "She knew she was being followed and she's also not alone." Her coal eyes locked with Harlan's briefly before falling away. She removed the glass from her cheek. It didn't sting as much, but it still hurt.

She heard him exhale sharply, a sign of his disappointment. Her eyes drifted over to the younger man and he stared back with contempt. Claudia remembered how he used to look when she met him a long time ago -- seemed like a lifetime ago now.

"Rex Balsom and John McBain should be no problem for you, Claudia." He gave a derisive smile. "You're quite a lovely distraction when you want to be."

Despite the attack on her character, Claudia held her head high. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she was the seventeen-year-old girl who had practically been his prostitute. As horrible as that experience had been, Claudia knew she would never apologize for doing what she had to in order to save her mother's life.

Clearing her throat, she continued. "It's not only them who are watching out for her. She has the backing of Jason Morgan as well as some men in the Corinthos organization." Harlan rolled his eyes at the mention of the small-time racketeer. The man was more trouble than he was worth -- especially where Harlan's daughter Brenda was concerned. Now, it seems that his enforcer was becoming just as much trouble. Claudia had given him various updates on the progress the reporter was making in her search, and every time he thought she could be captured and brought to him, something went wrong.

It annoyed him.

"You know, Claudia," Harlan began softly. She could tell from the tone of his voice that he was growing angrier. "When you left here to return home and claim your father's organization, I promised you I'd help you. One, because your mother is a very dear friend of mine and I hate what your father did to her," he said and Claudia knew it to be a lie. Her mother had tried to kill him once; something he never let her forget. He may have hated her father, but she knew for sure it had nothing to do with her mother. "And two, because you convinced me…" he looked at her pointedly. She remembered that night even though she didn't want to. "…that you could be a valuable asset to me in the States." Harlan leaned back in the chair and clasped his hands together. Claudia held her head high even though she was intimidated. "So far you haven't held up your end of the bargain." His eyes grew cold, even though they held a hint of amusement. "Sonny Corinthos and Jason Morgan cannot be that much of a problem." He didn't give her a chance to respond. "And if they are, we're going to have to rethink our arrangement."

"No," she said quickly. "I can handle them. They are being handled." She paused briefly, wondering if she should say the next part. Her eyes drifted to the young man. "Trevor Lansing however is becoming one."

When her eyes drifted back to Harlan's his eyes had hardened. She knew the three men -- Harlan, her father and Trevor -- had a history, a bad, shared history, but she didn't know what it was. She knew she would have to find out and find some way to exploit it.

"He's tried at least three times to kill me. One of which would have resulted in the death of Cordelia Roberts." All of them were quiet a long moment before Claudia spoke again. "He wants control of my father's territory, and will stop at nothing to get it."

She dared to let her eyes meet Harlan's -- he was a powerful man, and was calling the shots that controlled her life -- and she made eye contact as a way of showing how desperate the situation was. "He has to be dealt with." Claudia wanted so much to be the one to kill him, to be able to look into his eyes and watch him die, but Trevor was more of an adversary than she gave him credit for. If she had to use Harlan to get him out of the way, so be it.

That was unfortunate. It did not fit into his plan and Harlan hated that. Trevor would have to be taken care of. Soon. He sighed heavily. "When you get back to Port Charles… have Corinthos kill him."

Harlan stood and walked around the desk. He took the glass she still held and placed it at the edge of his desk. Running his knuckles lightly across the cheek he struck, he smiled as warmly as he could. It was a calculating smile and Claudia knew exactly what he wanted. He stepped closer, until there was hardly any room between their bodies, and kissed her lightly on the lips. Claudia's body trembled with a shudder she couldn't suppress.

She knew he would expect her in his bed later tonight.

Harlan then stepped around her and walked toward the door. He had it opened before she found the voice to ask, "How should I get him to do that?" Her eyes landed on his and she knew immediately it involved calling Sonny's bluff -- the 'coffee importer' thought he was the one in charge. It was time for Claudia to let him know that he wasn't.

"You give Trevor up as the one who bombed the warehouse and you make Sonny exact revenge by lording over him the fact that he knows you're the reason his son is in a coma." He looked over to the young man. "I'm going to see her now, Micah," he said cryptically. "You stay here with your sister and figure out the best way to frame your father for Anthony Zacharra's murder."

* * *

John hadn't gotten very much sleep and it showed. Between the heavy bags under his eyes, and the fact that his eyes were red, he looked as if he had gotten twenty minutes of sleep -- if he had slept at all. He stepped off the elevator onto the ICU floor of General Hospital. The police tape was still up, and Mac Scorpio was standing behind it speaking to his Chief of Detectives Marcus Taggert.

The nursing staff tried to go about their routines, but their eyes drifted from their paperwork at the station, or as they passed by to the outline in blaring white on the floor. The blood had been cleaned up hours ago, but John remembered seeing the body there. Remembered the feeling of sinking dread in his stomach as he ran to Cordelia's room. His eyes met Mac's and he remembered the feeling of relief when he found it empty.

Mac stepped from under the yellow tape and walked over to where John stood by the elevators. The ragged worry lines etched across the other man's face, making him appear older than what he was. John couldn't imagine the alarm that gripped Mac's heart -- his niece was on call last night.

"Hey," the men greeted each other with cordial nods. "The victim was Marko Giovanni," Mac continued. He looked back to where the body was found. John saw that Taggert was asking a nurse a few questions. He recognized her as Elizabeth Webber-Morgan, Jason's wife. She looked distraught, her eyes scanning, trying to land anywhere but on the detective's eyes. "Cause of death was a single shot to the heart," he added. He looked at John. "Giovanni worked for Sonny Corinthos."

John nodded. Cordelia told him all of that a little more than an hour ago when she was finally able to call him. She didn't stay on the line very long and didn't give away her location, just simply said that she and Jason were safe, and that was enough for him… for now. Before she hung up, however, she did clue him in on the theory that the Zacharras had a mole in the PCPD.

Mac must have picked up on his train of thought because he leaned in closer. "Cordelia is the only patient missing from this floor." He and John locked eyes. "And Jason Morgan's motorcycle was found in the underground parking lot."

John was the first to break the gaze. He didn't know how much information he could give Mac without endangering Cordelia. He was certain the Commissioner was not a Zacharra mole, but he didn't know which one of these other officers running around could be.

John was all ready to defend Cordelia, and about to tell Mac that Cordelia would only kill in self-defense, but before he could get the chance, Mac stepped a leaned in co-conspiratorially and said, "Is she safe?" John nodded his head stiffly, surprised at the question and the tone of Mac's voice. "Morgan's with her?" John wasn't sure if he should tell the truth about that or not, but gathered from the way Mac kept his voice even that he wasn't going to call out the dogs to hunt him down. John nodded softly; Mac raised his head and seemed to consider that bit of information carefully. Suddenly, his face was serious when he asked, "Does she trust him?"

John could sense the grave urgency in the police commissioner's voice, and could almost detect a hint of bitterness in his eyes. It was as if John was seeing a part of Mac that the older man tried to hide from everyone… even himself. John recognized it instantly because, despite his initial reaction to the mob enforcer, Jason had proven himself a loyal ally. The FBI agent may be warming up to him, and sharing a sense of camaraderie in this mystery they were all currently shrouded in, but there was no way he wanted Jason Morgan to be a permanent fixture in his life or Cordelia's… in spite of that, however, he did trust him to keep her safe… even from Sonny Corinthos.

"Yes, she does," John answered truthfully, his words carrying a certain power with Mac.

The police commissioner nodded and sighed heavily. "That's a shame," he said and stepped back.

John wanted to ask what he meant, but didn't, instead he said, "He wouldn't hurt her." In fact, John was sure that Jason had saved his friend.

Mac stared at John for a moment, trying hard to swallow the burning words on his tongue. "Look," he began softly. "As far as I'm concerned, Giovanni's death is a blessing in disguise. One less mob bastard who's going to kill an innocent person." Mac swallowed hard, the anger taking hold and his jaw clenched involuntarily. John sensed how hard it was for him to say those words -- whether they were true or not, a person was dead and Mac, as the police commissioner, had a duty to uphold and find the person responsible. Mac sighed again. "And whoever killed him did the world a service -- did _my town _a service." He looked over and saw Taggert step toward them. "I think the mob war between the Zacharra and Corinthos organizations is to blame for this," he said loudly when the other man was within earshot. He looked over at Taggert, who was watching John suspiciously. "We should go and talk to Corinthos." He looked back at John after Taggert nodded and walked off. "And you should find your friend before anymore trouble finds her."

John nodded. "I told you Jason…"

"Not him," Mac said begrudgingly. "Despite his line of work, Morgan is very loyal to someone he considers a friend. I meant Sonny," Mac clarified. "He's lost a lot and is looking for revenge… you don't want your friend to become a statistic in that. Wherever they are, he's going to want Jason back at work without distractions." Mac didn't have to finish the sentence for John to know what he meant. "However loyal an ally Jason has proven himself to be… Sonny and the organization come first to him. Always."

Mac turned to leave and when the elevator doors he and Taggert stepped onto closed, the other elevator opened to Sam McCall. John had met her for the first time a few hours ago when he'd gotten the call from Rex that someone had been shot in the hospital. The three of them, along with Lucky Spencer, stood around the cordoned off crime scene wondering just what the hell happened and whether Cordelia having gone missing had anything to do with it.

They acknowledged each other with eyes met and Sam started toward him. "Any information?" she asked. The redness under her eyes showed that she hadn't gotten any sleep either.

"They're safe," John said as they started to walk away. They walked down the corridor toward Lucky's room. He was going home today, and returning to work tomorrow, for limited desk duty. John hoped that could work in his favor. "She didn't say where they were, just said they were safe and she would contact me again when she could."

Sam nodded, having to accept that much in the same way John did. "At least they're alive," she said and they stepped through the door to find Lucky throwing some of his things in the duffel bag Sam brought him the previous day. He looked up at them and smiled at his girlfriend. Though she was exhausted, Sam went to him and kissed his cheek lightly, rubbing his back as she did so, and John tried not to feel like the third wheel. "Ready to go?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied and looked up at John as he zipped the bag. "Any word?"

"They're safe," John said again for the third time in fifteen minutes. He stepped forward and closed the door. "Listen, I need to talk to you both about something," he said and the tone in his voice made them both stop. Before he began, he realized Rex wasn't in the room. "Where's Balsom?" he asked Sam, who had driven him to Jason's penthouse last night so he and Spinelli could work on locating Jason and Cordelia.

"I dropped by the penthouse this morning and he wasn't there," she answered. She shrugged. "Spinelli said he must have left before he'd gotten up."

John thought that was feasible, even if unlike Rex. The young man had as much a horrible night as the rest of them -- and the fact that he didn't know where the woman he loved was, just happened to be a pain Rex couldn't handle. John knew what that felt like. He looked at his phone to see if there were any missed calls from Rex. There was none. It wasn't like Rex to not check in, especially now that they didn't know where Cordelia was. He pushed the button to call Rex's phone, and when it went unanswered, the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach became more prevalent.

"What is it?" Lucky asked, already sensing it was bad news.

"Balsom, I have some news. Call me as soon as you get this," he practically yelled into the phone then clicked it off. He looked up at the cop and his private eye girlfriend -- two more allies he'd never expected they'd have. "Cordelia and Jason suspect there is a mole in the PCPD and Commissioner Scorpio thinks Sonny's gunning for Cordelia to get her out of the way."

Now Rex had gone missing. John couldn't help but think of Annalise at that moment. Couldn't help but pray that she was strong enough to survive whatever horrors she was experiencing. He prayed for all of them.

* * *

She was sleeping when Harlan stepped into one of the guest bedrooms in his massive estate. He looked over to the nurse who sat ever vigilant by her bedside and nodded slightly to her. The older woman, her white hair pulled back in a tight ponytail stood and left the room.

Harlan walked slowly from the door to sit in the chair next to the bed. He leaned forward and ran his hand softly down the sleeping woman's cheek, and a lecherous smile curled his pink lips.

"Beautiful Annalise," he whispered and leaned in closer to kiss her lips. When her eyes fluttered open, he smiled at her. "I didn't mean to wake you, my dear," he said and grabbed her hand.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice full of sleep.

"Just past noon," he said. "Did you have pleasant dreams?"

Annalise nodded as best she could, tried to smile but found the action too much. "Any word from my family?"

Something flickered in Harlan's eyes and he looked away before looking back at her. "Not yet, my precious," he said, making sure his voice sounded as sad as he tried to make his eyes appear. "But I'm sure someone will be along shortly, and until then, you are a very welcomed guest in my home." He kissed her hand.

Annalise smiled. She wished she could remember how she'd gotten here, wished she could remember anything at all about the accident that seemed to cause her amnesia, but she was glad to have been saved by Harlan. His help had proven to be invaluable as she tried to remember her former life. Tried to find the family who must be missing her. She would have never known she'd had a family if not for Harlan. She was very glad for his help. Was glad to have his love…

"Eliza," Harlan called loudly, and the nurse who'd just left the room walked back in carrying a tray of food. He looked up at the woman and said, "I believe that it's time for Annalise's medication." He ran a hand a hand across her face gently and smiled. "I'll be back to check on you in a little while, my love," he said and bent forward to kiss her lips.

He stood and helped Annalise sit up in the bed. Looking at the beautiful young woman, he couldn't imagine what atrocities her sister thought she was suffering. Couldn't imagine the powerful need that gripped Cordelia to chase after a ghost to find her.

He smiled to himself when the nurse handed Annalise the little white pill. She had no idea that was the source of her memory loss. Had no idea that the drug had been tested on the soldiers fighting a war half a world away.

Had no idea that he'd perfected it on her sister.

And he planned to keep it that way.

Just as he planned to kill her sister… to keep her from remembering the secret she didn't know she was carrying.


	29. Chapter 28

**Author's Note:** I am, by no means, an expert on medicines or medical jargon. I _hope_ that what I've put in _at least_ makes sense.

**Chapter 28; Dreaming Wide Awake:**

"Carly, I'm fine," Lulu said as she and her cousin Carly Corinthos-Jacks walked into Carly's home.

The older blonde walked inside and closed the door as Lulu plopped down on the couch. Carly's face held a look of disbelief, and her eyes held a hint of worry. She had not seen Lulu since that whole ordeal six days ago on the docks, and that was very unlike her cousin. Lulu usually checked in at least every other day, even if it was just to stop by and share a cup of coffee. She knew the teenager was staying with her boyfriend since Johnny had been released from prison. Carly was worried because she recognized all the sign in Lulu that she herself had once before when involved with Sonny. She was worried her cousin was getting in too deep with the mob prince.

"So you've said," Carly replied softly as she sat down on the couch next to Lulu. She positioned herself on one leg, her back against the corner where the arm of the sofa and the back cushions met. "I'm just…" She didn't want to say that she was worried, knowing her cousin, Carly was sure Lulu would just say whatever she wanted to hear to get herself out of the discussion. "I hadn't seen you."

Lulu made a face. "And you were worried," she supplied.

Carly smirked a little. "Okay, fine. I was worried." She brushed some of Lulu's hair out of her face. "You went through something terrible on the docks and I just want you to know that you can talk to me about it." Lulu nodded stiffly, her eyes looking everywhere but at Carly. The older woman caught the look Lulu tried to hide, however. "Okay," Carly began with a sigh. "Maybe I was too subtle just then," she ended with a laugh that was intended to put Lulu at ease, but it had the opposite effect. Suddenly, Carly was worried and more serious than before. "Okay, Lulu talk to me," she pleaded.

Lulu's eyes met her cousins briefly, before the young woman looked away. "It's nothing, really. I'm fine," she said.

Carly didn't want to accept that because she could clearly see that her cousin was not fine, but decided not to push her. Lulu was a lot like in her in certain ways. She tended to act out when things bothered her and she fought hard for the ones she loved, even if it was the stupid thing to do.

"It's just…" Lulu said quietly after a moment of silence. She thought about the day she walked into the warehouse and someone held a gun to her head and shuddered. "…I can't get the image of that woman getting shot while trying to save me from Paul. Kept reminding me of the night in the MetroCourt."

"Wait, you knew the guy who held you hostage?" Carly asked surprised.

Lulu nodded stiffly. "He worked for Johnny's father," she answered. Tears pricked her blue eyes but she didn't let them fall. She looked up at Carly with a sudden urgency. "Am I a bad person for being glad that he's dead?"

Carly shifted so that she was right next to Lulu and wrapped her arms around her in a loving embrace. "Of course not," she said and kissed the top of Lulu's head. "He held you hostage, honey," she said, realizing again how unaware of the particulars of that day she was. "Terrorized you," she added a moment later. "It's perfectly understandable to feel the way you're feeling."

Lulu pulled away and wiped away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. "But he was a friend," she said. "Or at least… I knew him, you know?" She shook her head and ran both hands through her hair. "I mean, I didn't even know he had the gun until that woman who was shot -- Cordelia -- until she ran in and they saw each other."

All of this was news to Carly, and instead of speaking, she allowed Lulu to continue, hoping to finally get the information her cousin had been holding tightly to for six days. She saw the blatant fear that filled Lulu's eyes and the hint of remorse when she mentioned the woman who had been shot.

"She'd run in screaming my name and said there was a bomb, but when I went to move away, Paul grabbed my arm and held me to him and put a gun to my head. The next thing I know, he's shooting at her past my head and pushing me out of the way." Lulu closed her eyes and vividly remembered every detail. "She got hit, but instead of going down, she ran toward him, shooting him in the back and when he fell, she grabbed the detonator from his hand."

Carly's eyes were wide with shock. "He was going to blow the place up?" she asked. "Why?"

Lulu shrugged. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "All I know is he held a gun to my head."

Carly squeezed the girl's hand tightly. "What happened after that?"

Lulu exhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. "She told me that Sam and Jason and the cops were outside. She asked me to help her get out of there, so I wrapped her arm around my neck and we walked out of there," Lulu said. "When we got outside, there was a helicopter standing by and Jason and Sam were waiting for us. She told one of the FBI agents from the helicopter that Paul was inside and he ran inside. Somebody, I don't really remember who because my brain was buzzing, asked her about the bomb." Tears slipped down Lulu's face when she looked up at Carly again. "She held it out in her bloody hand before collapsing in Jason's arms."

At the mention of her best friend, Carly expression changed. "Do you know why Jason was there?" she asked.

She had a really horrible feeling now. She hadn't seen Jason in the past six days either; every time she called him, his phone went to voicemail. When she inquired about him to Sonny, he told her that Jason was away on business. Carly knew better than to ask questions about it so she let it go. Now, with the information that he had been involved in something that could have gotten him and her cousin killed, she was really starting to worry.

"I think he was with Cordelia or something." Lulu shrugged and Carly wondered again who Cordelia was. "I really don't know. I just know that he was angry with me for what I did and I can't get out of my head what he said."

"What did he say?" Carly was interested to know.

Lulu sighed. "We were in the helicopter flying to the hospital and he asked me what I was there for. When I told him he got so angry. He told me to look across to the other seat and to see what I'd risked for Johnny's freedom," she said, revealing for the first time that she was there for Johnny. She shook her head, her blonde curls moving slightly. "I'd never seen him that way before. So… angry. Except when…" She didn't finish the sentence. Carly knew what she meant anyway.

Carly nodded and put her questions about Jason on the back burner. "Why were you there?" she gently prodded. Lulu looked away again, focusing on her hands in her lap, and Carly sighed. Lulu was just like her… "Did Johnny ask you to do something for him?"

Mistaking the sympathetic tone of Carly's voice for judgment, Lulu's head snapped up and her facial expression was full of indignation. "Oh, please, Carly, not you, too." She shot off the couch so fast Carly had to lean back in order to not be hit by her flailing hand. "You, of all, people do not get to be angry with me for wanting to help Johnny. You, _of all people_, should know exactly what I was doing and how I feel." Behind her clouded rage, Lulu couldn't see that Carly _did _understand, and since she understood, she didn't want Lulu to repeat the same mistakes she herself had made many times before.

"Hold on," Carly said testily, then checked her tone. "I'm not judging you, Lulu," she said more calmly. She patted the cushion beside her. "Come sit back down, please." Lulu did so begrudgingly. "Look," Carly began softly, unaware of exactly what she wanted to say. "I know that you love Johnny and that you feel what you did was in his best interest. I get it, you know I get it. And I don't even need to know whatever that was…" She touched Lulu's face, finally hearing the words her mother (and practically everyone else) said to her coming out of her own mouth. "I just don't want you to get involved in something that's going to pull you deeper into Johnny's world, okay?" She shook her head and tried to minimize the fear in her eyes. "Take it from me… that's not a place you want to be."

Lulu looked at Carly as if she had just spoken in a foreign language. "Jason is your best friend, Carly," the teenager said. "And Sonny is Michael and Morgan's father and you fought tooth and nail for them. You'd still do it for Jason. Why should it be any different for me and Johnny?"

Carly didn't know how to answer that. The truth was staring her in the face right now, looking back at her through the eyes of her young cousin who was going to make the same foolish mistakes. The former life that she led, the one she fought to keep, the one… that could have cost her child his life.

"Because I don't want you to end up like Michael," Carly replied, her voice barely a whisper, with tears in her clear blue eyes. Lulu felt her own tears starting to well up again. Carly looked deeply into her eyes when she said, "I don't want you to wake up one day and realize that the man you love more than anything, who you've given everything for, who you thought loved you…will never be as willing to walk away from a dangerous life as he is willing to walk away from you."

* * *

Sonny stood by the terrace doors awaking any type of news. He hated waiting. Hated not knowing what was happening in his organization. It made him appear weak -- made him _feel _weak -- and he hated that feeling. He spent the whole of his adult life making sure he was in a position to never feel weak again. To never be the little boy locked in the closet by his stepfather again…

He was thinking of his son Michael. The young man was languishing in a coma in a hospital upstate caused by a bullet that was meant for him. A bullet Claudia Zacharra ordered. He wondered sometimes if he should kill Claudia for what happened to his son, almost had a few times, but found that she was more useful alive. At least until he had her father's territory. When that happened, there was a spot at the bottom of the ocean with her name on it.

The door opened and Max stepped in with a folder in his hand. He hesitated for just a moment before calling him. "Boss?"

Sonny didn't turn around, didn't tear his eyes away from the nothingness he stared at to acknowledge Max. "What have you got?" he asked simply, his voice even.

"She's in Amsterdam," Max said. "She went straight from the airport to Harlan Barrett's estate. We've got eyes on her."

Sonny nodded, wondering just what the hell Claudia was doing in Amsterdam, and more importantly, just how the hell she knew Harlan Barrett. "Thanks," he said shortly, thoughtfully. "As soon as she's back in New York, bring her to me."

Max nodded. "Here's the file you wanted on Cordelia Roberts," he said and handed Sonny the file when he turned around.

Sonny took it eagerly; this is what he'd been waiting for since three in the morning when he'd woken Stan with a phone call. He pored over the files, nothing in particular jumping out at him, but happy to know something about her nonetheless.

"What can you tell me about her that this can't?" he asked, looking up briefly into Max's dark eyes.

"She's a fighter," he said with a hint of admiration. "Brilliant, tough…she's a fighter."

Sonny gathered as much. He figured she had to be something special in order for Jason to side with her over him. But she was a just a woman… a woman he needed out of his way -- out of his _best friend's _way so that Jason could focus.

"Any information on the sister she's trying to find?"

"Stan's got her face going through every facial recognition system he can think of and is cross referencing that through every government agency he can think of," Max answered. "And per your request, Spinelli has not been clued in to what's going on."

Sonny nodded, seeing that as good news. "Good. The last thing I need is for him to tip her off." He really couldn't afford to anger Jason any more than he planned to.

"If Stan gets anything, you're his first call," Max relayed.

Sonny nodded and when the door opened again, he smiled. Max took his place behind Sonny, looking much like the bodyguard he was, trying to intimidate the person his little brother had just brought into the room.

"Mr. Balsom," Sonny said, his voice holding a hint of satisfaction in it. "I'm Sonny Corinthos."

Milo pushed Rex further into the room and Rex looked at all three men with murderous contempt. "I know who you are," the young blond man said with as much disdain as he felt.

"Good," Sonny replied. His coal eyes burned with something akin to fury. "Then you know exactly what will happen to you if you don't cooperate with me."

Rex looked at Max and saw that his hand hovered just above the gun on his waist. He knew Milo carried a gun because it had been pressed into his back for the past fifteen minutes since Milo picked him up from the moment he left Jason's penthouse. Being an infantry soldier and having been trained in combat, Rex was certain he could take these men. However, he knew he couldn't take them all at the same time. If he made a move Sonny didn't like, his bodyguards would shoot him.

Weighing his option of being shot against cooperating with the mobster, Rex realized he didn't have much choice if he wanted to make it out of here alive. "What do you want from me?" he asked.

Sonny smiled and Milo handed him Rex's cell phone. He held it out to Rex. "I just want you to make a phone call."

* * *

When next Jason woke, the sun was shining brightly into the back bedroom. He saw Cordelia staring out the window, the gun on the table next to her, just an inch away from her hand. He wanted to tell her to close the curtains, that someone could be watching her - he was fairly certain no one could get a clear view of with all the sunlight coming through the window, nor could she see clearly to see if anyone was watching the house - but he found that with the sunlight surrounding her entire body made her look positively angelic. Like a savior of some sort, he corrected his previous thought. It was the kind of image you'd see in a movie: the victim in distress looking up into the sun, wondering what was about to happen to them, wondering if this would be their last moment alive, when suddenly a beautiful figure steps out of the blinding sunlight and offers them salvation.

He shifted in the bed, feeling less pain in his back than a few hours ago, and was glad that he finally relented enough to allow her to go into the next town to a drug store and buy him some medication. She'd told him that his fever was getting worse and that his wound would probably be infected if she didn't find him some antibiotics. He probably still wouldn't have let her go until he saw blood soaking through her shirt and realized that she was in as bad a shape as he was.

"Do you ever sleep?" he asked, his voice throaty with sleep.

Cordelia ignored him and closed the curtains, grabbed the gun off the table and headed back to the bed. She deposited the weapon on the nightstand next to their medication before sitting on the bed and placing a cool hand against his forehead.

"Can't when you have a very high fever that could kill you… which has broken, thank God," she said and removed her hand. She leaned forward a little and placed her hand on his bare back. Jason leaned forward a little so she could check his wound. "Looks good," she said while smoothing out the white bandage again. Cordelia settled back and looked at him. "Are you hungry? You should eat."

"Later," Jason said softly. He reached over for the water she'd left for him and took a sip to help his dry throat. "Did you get in touch with John while you were out?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I told him we were safe and that we think there is a mole in the PCPD. He said he'd check into it." Cordelia didn't elaborate on how exactly John planned to do that, but Jason could guess.

"Did you get in touch with Rex?" he asked, careful to tuck whatever disdain he felt for her best friend away.

She shook her head and looked away, a red tint rising in her cheeks. "No answer." She had a bad feeling about that but kept it to herself. Shaking herself free of the bad thoughts that plagued her, she looked up at Jason. "Okay, so it's only a day before this Santos guy arrives to attend your little mob meeting…" The little mob meeting in this case being the gathering of the largest and most prominent criminal organizations on the eastern seaboard. "… we need to come up with a plan."

Jason nodded, he'd noticed the emotions she'd tried carefully to hide, but said nothing. "I was thinking last night that it might be hard for us to get a meeting with him in order for you to pretend to be a buyer. It'd be very hard for you anyway…"

Cordelia's expression remained unchanged. "Okay…" she said, and waited for him to continue.

"I think we need someone… established," Jason said, in that cryptic way she was beginning to hate. Her eyebrows rising was the only acknowledgement she made. "Somebody who has something Santos wants or could use…"

"And who is that?" Cordelia asked; she was starting to figure out what Jason was talking about. When Jason remained quiet, she put the final piece together. Closing her eyes tightly, she sighed. "What does Corinthos have that Santos wants?"

"Sonny is in control of Alcazar's ports thanks to Ric," Jason reminded her. "Santos would either want a piece of that… or free reign to move shipments through there."

Cordelia didn't really like the sound of that. She and Sonny Corinthos were not on good terms -- could never really be when he's sent someone to kill her. She didn't see him being so eager to help her with anything… even if Jason asked him to. "I really don't think Corinthos is going to go for that, Morgan," she replied honestly. "The son of a bitch and I hate each other… me with good reason to hate him, mind you."

Jason knew she was right. Sonny wouldn't be willing to go for it unless he got something out of it, and truthfully, Santos didn't have anything they could use. He would, however, prove to be a useful ally for when they took over the Zacharra territory. What, with his contacts in Europe and South America…that was… if he left the meeting alive.

Cordelia's eyes narrowed, she read Jason's eyes perfectly. Could see clearly his intent with this man. "You're going to kill him, aren't you?" she asked point-blank. Jason's eyes rose slowly to meet hers and she knew the truth.

Silence rang loudly between them for the longest time. Neither of them knowing what to say. Cordelia was beginning to understand why Sonny depended on him so much, and Jason was starting to realize the lengths Cordelia would go to in order to find her sister. He could see the initial disgust in her eyes that gave way to quiet acceptance… and he hated himself for that. He hated what he was bringing to her life.

"Is it wrong that I'm okay with that?" she asked with a bitter laugh. Tears clouded her green eyes but they didn't fall. "Honestly, if I were to confront him on my own, he wouldn't leave out of there alive either. I'd get the information I need out of him and I'd dispose of him." She looked away, swore, and then looked back at him with more vulnerability in her green eyes than he had ever seen. "What kind of person does that make me?"

Cordelia didn't know if this was the person she was becoming after months of fruitless searching…or if that was who she had always been. Was this the woman who Tom Courtland created when he'd kidnapped her sister, who Jason Morgan nourished by being cutthroat and ruthless when she couldn't be, or was this the woman who killed seven people - five of them being comrades - to survive?

Either way, she wasn't sure if she liked who she was - or was becoming.

Suddenly, a blinding pain spliced through her head and she clutched her forehead while grimacing in pain. Jason, his own pain forgotten, leaned forward to comfort her. "I'm alright," she breathed out. Cordelia swallowed hard and leaned back, trying to control her breathing as the pain subsided a little. "I'm okay," she told him. "Thanks."

Jason still didn't lean back against the pillows, in fact, he moved closer to her. "How long has it been since you've taken your medication?" he asked.

Cordelia looked at him, through him rather, and tried to remember. "It's been two days since I've had Olanzapine," she said, confusing him on the name. "That's the prescribed pill I'm on." She pointed to one of the bottles on the nightstand. "The Abilify over there has Aripiprazole which works in the same way." She raised her head and breathed deeply, feeling the last of the pain fade away. "I'm just not used to it."

All of those words meant nothing to him when she was in so much pain. He looked back at the bottle on the nightstand. It had a prescription label on it, and that immediately told him he didn't want to know how she got it. He just hoped she didn't show up on any local news stations as a robbery suspect. Jason's brow furrowed. "What is it exactly?"

"It's an anti-depressant," she replied softly. "Will keep this part of my brain…" she tapped the right side of her head with her forefinger. "…from taking over." She started to reach for the water and he leaned back at the same moment, causing their faces to be inches apart. They stared at each other quietly until Cordelia relented and let Jason reach the glass. He handed it to her and she drank the water slowly. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem," he replied, took the water from her shaking hand, and placed it back on the nightstand. He was pleased that her face had relaxed a little and she didn't look as if she was going to pass out from the pain. "Does the…" he couldn't remember the name of the pill. "…whatever… help?"

Cordelia nodded absently. "It should," she told him honestly. "It's better than not taking anything at all; I'll put it that way."

"What would happen if you didn't?" he asked, but he wasn't exactly sure why.

She looked at him, wondering exactly how to explain it. "Do you remember when I attacked you on the docks?" He nodded. "I had taken a pill that morning, and I was still… incredibly psychotic." No need to mince words. "I would be ten times worse without anything to regulate my moods. Especially right now with all this anger at your boss running through me." She paused, still thinking of the best way to put it. "It's like… my mind is on fire. It's burning up, burning me up, and the fire makes me want to do anything - _anything_- to quench it. The medication is… like a heat-resistant blanket. It quiets the fire… but only in small doses."

Jason was speechless. Everyday his estimation for her seemed to grow. The things she had to cope with while being in an extremely high stress situation. Everyday, he found himself wanting to know more about her. Found that, even when she was getting on his last nerve, that she'd crept just that much further under his skin.

"How did you…" He didn't know the proper way to ask such a personal question.

"How did I become schizoaffective?" she supplied for him. Jason nodded. Cordelia shrugged. "I don't really know, to tell you the truth," she said with a little grin. "I don't…" she made a face as if she was really trying to recall. "…it's something that's rooted in childhood, I'm told. It's a bipolar disorder and most of those were brought on by trauma. Perhaps I've experienced some trauma and the disorder manifested in adulthood." She shrugged again, unable to believe that she was telling him all of this. "I don't know. I don't need to know." She knew how to deal with it and that was enough.

They were both silent again until the shrill ringing of Jason's cell phone cut through the silence. They both looked at the jacket at the foot of the bed, momentarily deciding to ignore it. They looked at each other before Cordelia reach inside the jacket's pocket and pulled the device out.

She looked at the number on the ID and her brow furrowed. "It's Rex," she told him. Both of them now had a dire feeling. He nodded slightly and she flipped it open and put it to her ear. "Rex?"

"No, sorry," Sonny's voice filled the airwaves. Cordelia immediately felt her heart sink into her stomach. "Mr. Balsom is currently my guest, however, and we both request your presence."

"Screw you," she said to him, looking at Jason with an angry expression on her face.

"Now that's not the proper thing to say to someone when they're holding a gun to your best friend's head." His voice held no amusement, in fact, he sounded just as angry as she felt. "Now, if you want to see your friend alive again, you and Jason will be here in twenty minutes," he continued. She could hear muffled sounds coming through the line but couldn't make out the voices. "Clock starts now," Sonny added finally and hung up.

Cordelia closed the phone and fought the urge to throw it against the wall. Jason was the first to speak. "Who was it?" he asked, though he was sure it was Sonny.

"Your boss," she answered. "He's got Rex," she told him. "And he's threatened to kill him if we're not at Greystone in twenty minutes."


	30. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29; Born Heroes:**

Forefingers pressed against both sides of his head Mac massaged his temples in the hopes of staving off the impending headache. He could feel the tension from the top of his head, knotting his shoulders, and adding more damage to the ulcer he was going to need treated very soon.

John and Lucky stood around his desk, both men looking preoccupied with thoughts Mac would rather not know. He looked up, hoping to see something reassuring in the FBI agent's eyes, and was visibly upset when he didn't.

"Are you sure about this?" Mac asked. He dropped his hands as his eyes darted between both men.

John nodded reluctantly. "Yeah," he answered with severity. "There is no other way for them to have known about the raid beforehand - at least not long enough to set up bombs to erase any evidence that might have been left behind."

"I talked to the shipping yard manager," Lucky began, "and he told me that the Zacharras moved their shipments two days before schedule." Mac exhaled sharply. "They had to have known we were coming."

Mac nodded, agreeing, but still found himself saying, "Maybe, or they could have been ahead of schedule."

"Then why try and blow up the warehouses?" John asked. "That just doesn't fit," he said. "Most of the Zacharra money is in those shipments, in that property on the docks and those shipping lanes, why would they destroy that?"

"Maybe they've got nothing left to lose," Lucky offered.

"Or maybe they've got everything to gain," John replied quietly. All three men looked between each other silently hoping that the Zacharras were not as clever as they were making them out to be. "One thing is for certain - somebody tipped them off." He looked at Mac. "Commissioner, your department has a mole."

Marcus Taggert was territorial by nature. Growing up the oldest of his three siblings and the only male in the house after his father walked out, he was used to being the protector. He was used to people coming to him and asking him what they should do. He hated it when people told him what to do. He didn't mind it from Mac so much because, after all, Mac was his boss. It would be bad for his career if he were always butting heads with his superiors.

However, John McBain was _not_ his superior. No. John McBain was a friend of that journalist who had aligned herself with Jason Morgan (and in Taggert's eyes Sonny Corinthos). Why the hell should he help them? Especially when they were in _his_ town - _tearing it apart _- and McBain was in here on the suggestion of _Jason Morgan_ telling him that one of his own people was a traitor.

He locked eyes with John again as Mac and Lucky went over every detail of the warehouse investigation - Taggert was aware that Lucky was leaving out the part about his girlfriend Samantha McCall being part of the investigation even though she didn't have her license yet - and he thought for a second John could sense his animosity towards him. Something deep inside told Taggert the FBI agent did, but he didn't care. He had nothing to prove to John, and he didn't have to like him.

"Marcus!" Mac all but yelled when Taggert hadn't responded to him the first time. Taggert's eyes snapped to the commissioner's but he didn't say anything. Lucky and John looked at him, but neither was acknowledged. "Were you able to get your hands on the drugs being moved through the ports?"

Taggert shook his head silently, almost daring Lucky to say anything about it. "No, my contact on the inside wasn't able to come through." He shot Lucky a bitter look, daring the young man to come clean. Lucky remained silent.

"Why not?" John asked before Taggert could out Sam as the one who did acquire a box of the drugs. The FBI agent was leveled with a look of irritation if not outright disrespect from the chief of detectives, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something about Taggert rubbed him the wrong way.

He couldn't deny the man was an excellent cop - one of the best on paper. However, being good on paper had nothing to do with what made the man tick. There was a reason Taggert was a cop, and John seriously doubted it had anything to do with wanting to serve and protect. His obsession with Sonny Corinthos was something that made John worry.

"Because," Taggert began slowly. "the warehouse was ambushed by FBI agents to save a civilian after she shot someone."

Something flashed in John's eyes, but he kept his voice in check when he said, "That civilian… saved a few lives that day. Including many of your fellow officers."

Taggert couldn't deny that, so he turned his attention back to Mac. "From what I was told, the drug is some kind of hallucinogenic drug. It's shipped to ports all around the world."

"But mostly in Iraq," John added. Taggert spared him a glance before John said, "Jason learned most of this from Jerry Jacks in Venezuela."

This having been the first Mac had heard of Jason being in Venezuela or about Jerry Jacks being involved, he rolled his eyes. "This just gets better and better." He sighed visibly. "What does Jerry know?"

"Jacks was apparently involved," John continued. "He acted as a liaison of sorts between the Zacharras and their Venezuelan contacts."

"He set up the shipments," Mac stated plainly. He leaned back in his chair. "Maybe Jerry was the mole," he theorized. "It's no secret that he and Alexis were… involved."

"Alexis would never jeopardize her career like that," Lucky took up for the absent woman. He knew Mac didn't mean to sound so crude in regard to Alexis, he was just having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that one of their own could sell them out.

"Nor would she jeopardize her daughter's safety," Taggert added.

Mac looked up at him at the same time John and Lucky shot deadly glares his way. Mac looked back at Lucky. "What the hell is he talking about?" Lucky remained quiet; as did John. "Detective Spencer, I asked you a question." Mac's voice was more stern this time. "What the hell is he talking about?"

Lucky sighed, glanced at John, and then started softly. "Sam first got wind of the drugs when she was drugged in the hospital after she was run over by that car. A couple of patients died mysteriously from a certain type of medication and she…got suspicious." He looked over at Taggert when he finished; the man had a smug look on his face that Lucky would have liked to knock the hell off.

Already, Mac didn't like the way this was headed.

"She got a job at the Zacharra's ports and tried to get some information."

Closing his eyes, Mac took ten calming breaths. "You mean to tell me…that Samantha McCall… who has no investigative license… had access to our case that took months to put together?" All three men remained quiet. He opened his eyes and nothing but pure anger stared back at Lucky. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asked. "Letting her get involved?"

"Sam presented the best option at the time, Commissioner," Lucky said. He wouldn't dare call him Mac right now. "We wouldn't even _have_ a case if it wasn't for her," he said, directed more at Taggert than anyone else. "She didn't really do anything wrong. She got a job and relayed information to me that helped me build the case."

"Didn't do anything wrong?" Mac repeated incredulously. It was obvious he didn't agree with the assessment of the situation.

"She was just like any other mole," John replied in defense of the junior detective. "She hasn't helped in acquiring any evidence in the case, so you're good."

"Oh, but that's not true is it, Lucky?" Taggert asked in that smug way. Lucky started towards him when Mac jumped out of his chair.

"Okay, everybody calm the hell down," Mac demanded. He looked at Lucky again. "What does Sam have that can help us?"

"She's got a canister of the drugs. She was able to get it out of the warehouse right before the raid. The men were so busy placing the bombs and moving the shipments that they haven't noticed one was gone."

All four men were quiet before John said, "This could work in your favor, Commissioner." Mac looked up at him. "You have an advantage right now for two reasons. One: you're in a position to find out what the drugs are and keep Samantha McCall on the inside to get more information, and two: the department mole has no idea we're on to them.

Taggert looked absolutely appalled. "You're still going on about this mole in the PCPD when you have no evidence that there is one." He looked at Lucky. "No offense, but your girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever she is to you is a known con-woman who could be pulling the biggest con on all of us… including her mother. I don't trust her any more than I trust his journalist friend who readily aligns herself with mobsters." He walked to Mac's desk. "If you want my help in weeding out a rat bastard who would betray his own, you got it," he said. "But they haven't presented enough of anything other than the word of a mob errand boy and a journalist with a vendetta…" He turned and walked out not sparing a glance to John or Lucky.

Mac sat back down with a grunt. He started rubbing his temples again; contemplating all of the information he'd gotten today. Taggert was right. They didn't have much to go on, and he should ream Lucky into next week and bust him down to _cadet_ for allowing Sam to be a part of this police investigation. But in his gut, Mac knew Lucky was right…they wouldn't have even had an investigation if it weren't for Sam. And Cordelia may have a vendetta against the Zacharras for what they've done to her sister…but could he really blame her for that?

"Lucky…" Mac looked up. "can you get the canister from Sam and bring it to the lab for analysis?" Lucky nodded. "If anyone asks, it was acquired during the raid." He looked at John. "I don't suppose you'd know a FBI agent that was on the scene that would be willing to testify to that in court if necessary?"

John nodded, smirked a bit. "I know at least two." Both of whom owed him favors.

Mac felt horrible for lying about this. It was his job to uphold the law…and not by blurring the lines.

Suddenly, he remembered something the former commissioner - his mentor - said to him. He didn't pay much attention to it at the time, at least not seriously, but now the words came rushing back to him. He said: "Sometimes the lines of justice aren't chiseled in concrete but drawn in sand."

Mac understood what he meant now.

"Now… about this mole," Mac continued. "I've got an idea on how to flush them out."


	31. Chapter 30

**Author's Note:** Warning: Violence****

Chapter 30; Showdown:

"So what's the plan?" Jason queried as they passed the marker into Port Charles. He looked over to Cordelia, who had a certain look about her. She hadn't looked back at him; in fact, she'd scarcely said anything at all after she helped him into the stolen car. He couldn't tell what she was thinking and that bothered him.

"I don't have a plan," Cordelia revealed after a long while. Jason could tell by the tone of her voice that she was trying to keep her anger in check. She actually didn't know what she would do if when they got to Greystone Rex was hurt. She didn't think she would be able not to kill Sonny, and that would undoubtedly be the end of her life, as well as the end of any hope her sister had at being rescued. "I'm just going to go in there and reason with Corinthos." She shot him a sidelong glance. "What do you think he wants?"

Jason sighed heavily; he really couldn't say. Sonny had been acting very out of character lately and that usually meant one thing. "I don't know, but you should be careful. We…should both be careful."

Cordelia nodded and neither of them said another word until they walked into Sonny's living room at Greystone. They'd gotten there in the twenty minute demand Sonny placed on them. Rex sat on the middle cushion on the sofa, Sonny seated in the chair with his back toward the terrace doors, while Milo and Max stood at opposite ends of the room.

Cordelia looked at Rex after surveying the room. "Are you alright?" she asked him, not even acknowledging Sonny; an action she was sure would piss him off. Sonny had this thing about being disrespected. Rex nodded, looking her and Jason over. He noticed the enforcer hadn't moved from Cordelia's side. In fact, Jason looked visibly upset.

"Okay, Corinthos," Cordelia moved from Jason's side and sat in the chair opposite Sonny. She watched as the mobster's eyes flared slightly and knew she'd struck a nerve. She could practically hear the venomous words in the man's mind. With a glint in her eyes, she leaned back in the chair. "I'm here…what do you want?"

Jason watched in the whole thing in complete surprise. Cordelia knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly the right image to portray to Sonny. Had she walked in there frantic and demanding, Sonny would have simply used that against her. He would have used her feelings for Rex to his advantage. Instead, with her walking in there subtly challenging him and demanding that he acknowledge her as an equal (so to speak), Sonny wasn't able to manipulate her.

Sonny hated to admit it but the woman had nerve. Not many _men _would be willing to walk in here and deign to sit in his presence with the gumption she did (especially when their best friend was a…"guest" for lack of a better word). He admired that. He could use a person like that.

"I want to make you an offer, Ms. Roberts," Sonny said cordially. Any anger he felt was hidden away. That tended to worry Jason more than Sonny blowing up. Sonny glanced up at Jason then back to her. "Your best friend for mine."

A slow smile crept along her face. Sonny was quite obvious in the games he wanted to play. He simply wasn't going to just let her and Rex go, she knew that. No… he wanted something.

"I have no control over what Jason does," she replied after a moment. "And I'm by no means… holding him hostage," she added pointedly.

Sonny's eyes flickered to Jason then back again. "Perhaps not, but… you do have some hold over him."

"Enough with the games, Corinthos" she said abruptly. "You don't want to trade Rex for Jason. You sent someone to kill me last night so you either want me dead or want me to do something for you." Sonny smiled coldly, though he admired her straightforwardness. "Just tell me what it is."

The room seemed to drop ten degrees colder when Sonny said, "I want you to kidnap Johnny Zacharra."

* * *

Crimson Pointe was nearly deserted by the time Claudia walked inside. She expected to see some of the men coming and going or at least lounging around but there was no one. Not even any of the staff. That gave her a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach but she chalked it up to her time with Harlan. She really couldn't have gotten out of Amsterdam fast enough. She wanted to be as far away from Harlan and Micah as she possibly could get.

Claudia had half a mind to go upstairs to her and room, crawl into bed, and sleep for the rest of the day. Catching a red eye flight from Amsterdam was just as draining as her time there; besides, no one can sleep very well on a plane even if they _are_ in first class.

Instead, she walked down the hall to her father's office. Since she was finally in a position to take over the organization, there was work to be done. She had no doubt her father would sign the organization over once he realized his empire, _his legacy_, the one thing he had left to give to Johnny was crumbling down around him. He was certainly in no position to rebuild it, and truthfully, Johnny wasn't either. As soon as Trevor was taken care of, there would be no one left for Anthony to turn to. Claudia seriously doubted he would sign it over to Sonny Corinthos, but since she didn't trust her father any more than he trusted her, she made sure that _Sonny_ appeared to be the reason his business was crumbling. She knew her father had spies everywhere: the PCPD, the mayor's office, the docks, even some in Corinthos' organization itself. But he had no idea which of those people held allegiance to Harlan.

The sound of her high-heeled shoes against the wood floor resonated through the dark office when she stepped inside. The large bay window behind the desk was covered by the dark brown drapes but little rays of sunlight peeked through. That was one of the first things she was going to change when she took over. She was going to brighten this room up. Nothing too feminine since she still had an image to uphold; but every trace of her father was going to be erased from this office.

Suddenly, the lamp on the desk came on and a dim light was cast through the room. Claudia stopped in her tracks, taken aback because she thought she was alone. She saw Trevor sitting in her father's chair looking very pleased, as if he felt he belonged there.

She fixed a disdainful expression on her face and walked up to the desk. Bracing the edge with her hands, she leaned forward. "What in the hell do you think you're doing, Trevor?" Something about him was off. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what, but she knew it was there.

The older man gave a beguiling grin as her eyes held his gaze. He'd known Claudia her entire life and watched her grow from that inquisitive little girl to the pain-in-the-ass woman she was now. Trevor had to admire her resilience, however. He didn't know many people who would work half as hard as Claudia to usurp something that never belonged to them in the first place. She reminded him so much of his son: spoiled, ungrateful, and woefully outmatched.

"I'm working, Claudia," he replied casually. "I know that's a foreign concept to you and your brother, but with your father incapacitated, someone has to take over the reins."

Pushing away from the desk, Claudia folded her arms across her chest. "I wonder how my father would feel about you 'taking over the reins' of the organization he wants for John." Her eyes challenged him.

"I'm sure he'd take it better than if it were _you,_" the lawyer replied in even tones. He smiled charmingly again and rose from the chair. "Come on, Claudia," Trevor began as he walked slowly around the desk to face her. "It doesn't have to be like this between us. You and I can work together to eliminate all of the threats to the organization and hand it over to John." He stepped in front of her; the spoiled little mob princess had no idea what kind of trouble she was getting herself into by making him an enemy. "It's what your father would want."

Though her blood ran hotly through her veins and every inch of her was revolted by the sight of him, Claudia kept it together. She plastered a fake smile on her face, one she knew Trevor could see right through, and moved from her spot to stand next to her father's chair.

"I don't trust you, Trevor," she replied while sitting. She looked up at him as if she held all the power. "And I don't trust that you want _my_ help to eliminate anything for John...especially when you consider me a threat."

Something between them shifted; something deep inside both of them that had been buried for so long was climbing to the surface.

"Isn't that why you blew up the warehouse you knew I was meeting Corinthos in?" she asked him succinctly, though it wasn't a question. "Take us both out at the same time. Then my father and finally John?" She leaned back against the Corinthian leather and folded her hands delicately. "You're not as clever as you think you are. And your mole in the PCPD isn't as bright either."

Trevor clapped slowly and dramatically, as he moved forward. Claudia never took her eyes off of him. "You've got it all figured out, Claudia." He walked slowly back to where she sat and when he reached her side, he leaned down close to her ear. "Tell me, did you figure it all out on your own, or did Harlan Barrett help you?"

Claudia didn't respond. He didn't give her a chance to as he said, "First, your mother and then you." Trevor felt the shiver she tried to suppress. "Tell me something, Claudia, what's it like to be with all of your father's old friends, hmm?" He leaned in closer. "Your mother tried this exact same tactic: trying to play the three of us off of one another. She'd been trying that since college." He chuckled deeply at the remembrance. "She married your father, but was at my beck and call anytime I wanted a good fuck. I'm guessing when your father banished her she took up with Harlan." He nuzzled her earlobe and Claudia felt she would be sick.

She jumped up from the chair and pushed him back as hard as she could. "Don't you dare touch me." Memories of a moment she'd rather forget played before her eyes. The thundering of her heart drowned out all other sounds. "You touch me again and I swear to God, I'll kill you."

Trevor smiled smugly, happy that he'd pushed the right buttons. Claudia was so easy to read. "Aw, come on, Princess," he said while advancing on her quickly. He was stronger than she thought and pinned her to the desk with ease even though she fought him. "Don't you remember how I had you right here in this very room when you were sixteen? You enjoyed it then, just like you will now."

Claudia let out a little scream as he pushed her backward onto the desk. His body weight against her crushed her into the desk. She tried to fight him, to stop him from pushing her dress up her thigh. His fingers against her skin made her skin crawl. The feel of his lips against hers made her violently ill. He pinned one hand to her side, bracing his weight on one arm to unzip his pants, his knee forced hers apart, and he looked down at her with disdain in his eyes.

"You're a whore, Princess," he practically spat at her. She spat in his face and his free hand smacked her across the face. She felt him tugging at her panties and her free hand tried to fight him. She scratched at him, clawed him, and tried to knee him in the groin. He hit her again, this time harder and it sent her reeling. "Just like your mother."

Suddenly, she felt him being lifted off of her. She opened her eyes to see him and Johnny fighting a few steps away. Johnny was yelling something she couldn't quite make out. Without a second thought, Claudia rose to her feet and lunged at Trevor. Trevor pushed Johnny away and turned around to smack Claudia back. She felt back into the desk. Johnny tried to gain the upper hand but Trevor was too quick, he punched Johnny hard across the face and the mob prince was sent reeling.

"Ungrateful fucking brats!" he yelled at both of them. "Just like your father," he said a bit calmer. He wiped the blood from his lip. "None of you would have _anything_ if it weren't for me!" He breathed in deeply, reveling in the anger coursing through him. He kicked Johnny swiftly in the stomach, making the young man groan. "I'll deal with you as soon as I take care of your sister." He turned to Claudia who was still bent over the desk dazed. "I wanted to have you one last time, Princess, before I sent you to meet both your parents in hell." He grabbed her and turned her to face him, desperate to see her eyes as he ripped the life from her body. "Oh well." His hands dropped from her neck and a strangled cry escaped him. He stumbled back away from her, looking down in horror as the letter opener sticking out from his body, the red blood staining his crisp white shirt.

Trevor dropped to his knees as Johnny passed him to get to his sister. He caught Claudia just as she crumbled to the ground. "He killed our father, Claudia," he told her as Trevor collapsed onto the floor in front of both of them. "The son of a bitch deserves to die." Together, they watched as Trevor taunted them one last time with a smile.

When it was over, Johnny held on to her tightly. The mob prince and princess left alone in their deserted castle.

Even though Trevor was dead, both of them knew things were far from over. They still had Sonny Corinthos to contend with for control of their empire.

* * *

To her credit, Cordelia didn't even flinch, though just the mere thought of the mob prince made her see red. Rex looked at Sonny in disbelief. Had she been able to see Jason's face, she would have seen his jaw clenching tightly. He knew now what Sonny was up to. He was testing her…testing them both, waiting to see their reactions.

It wasn't until he heard Cordelia laughing, did Jason pay attention to the tightness in his chest. He could see the anger rising in Sonny's face.

"You want me to kidnap Johnny Zacharra?" she asked, a slow smile forming again. "When you have three men in the room who'd jump at the chance to do it simply because they work for you?" She _tsked_ at him and shook her head. "And I thought we were done playing games, Corinthos."

"No game," he replied, his coal eyes sparkling with something none of them could place. "I do have people who would take care of her if I told them to, but I think you're better suited for the job." He looked deeply into her eyes as he said. "I mean, you killed one of my best men last night. Not to mention those five civilians in Iraq during your escape. Six murders and not a single arrest. Even my best people can't accomplish that."

In spite of the rage coiling within, Cordelia kept her cool and hitched an eyebrow. "You don't give a damn if I get away with it or not. I can see right through you, you know that." Jason could tell by the tone of her voice that she was angry, while Rex could see it in her eyes. Max and Milo watched the whole scene with baited breath, ready to do their employer's bidding. "At best you're just using me as a scapegoat. If your side doesn't kill me, theirs will. Or you still think I work for the Zacharras and in your warped mind you think you're going to get something out of me." The room was quiet for a beat until she laughed again. "You think I'm going to try and talk my way out of it? Give you reasons to spare him?"

"I don't hear you taking me up on my offer," Sonny said.

"She shouldn't have to prove anything," Jason chimed in, taking both Rex and Sonny by surprise. "You know her past and her affiliations. I told you we can trust her."

"And I would have trusted your instinct on it, Jason, if you _hadn't_ been going against me every time I turn around!" His voice rose a little at the end, anger flashing hotly in his eyes. "I don't trust her! She knows more than she's saying."

"And kidnapping someone is a way for me to gain your trust?" Cordelia asked. "You are one seriously fucked up human being," she told him with quiet anger. "You don't want me to kidnap him because you think I work for them. You want him out of the way or dead so his sister will come after you." She felt tears welling up but didn't let them spill. "You want an excuse to start a war."

Cordelia hated to admit it, but part of her actually did want to take Sonny up on his offer. The Zacharra siblings were an instrumental part in her sister disappearing. Had both of them come forth and told someone what was going on instead of using it as a way to gain the upper hand, none of this would have happened. Had either of them been a decent human being…they would have helped all of those women.

"For the last time, Corinthos, I don't work for those people and most importantly, I don't want or need _your_ trust."

"And here I thought you'd jump at the chance to get even with the people who didn't help your sister."

"You son of a bitch!" she spat at him.

Sonny smiled. He knew the right buttons to push, too. "A chance to prove once and for all whose side you're on."

"Like Jason said, she shouldn't have to prove anything to you," Rex said. There was darkness in his blue eyes that Cordelia had never seen before. "She's done nothing to undermine your organization and she's even saved your best friend's life more than once now."

Sonny didn't say anything as he looked at Rex amused. He could tell the other man had feelings for the reporter and that was something he intended to use. He looked back to Cordelia. What he hadn't expected was for Jason to let his feelings for this woman show.

"Sonny, who has been talking to you?" Jason asked after a moment. The look in the enforcer's eyes spoke volumes to Sonny.

That thought never occurred to Cordelia or Rex. Neither ever assumed that Sonny would have anything to do with any member of that family given he wanted all of them dead. Yet, somehow, all of this made sense now.

"Trevor Lansing." Cordelia answered in his stead. "You showed up at my hospital room just moments after he did." That was the first Jason heard of it. He spared Sonny a glance, which the mob boss met evenly. "Trevor tried to get me believe that Jason was the reason I got shot on the docks…told me that he knew Paul Wade was there. And then somehow you knew about Paul Wade, too. Knew that I had a connection to him… accused me of setting Jason up to get shot."

Jason and Sonny looked to one another again. He could see the anger in Jason's face at the blatant distrust he held for Cordelia. He remembered both Trevor and Claudia boasting about Cordelia. Trevor going so far as to mentioning how wrapped around her finger Jason was. Even had pictures of him caressing her face in front of the PCPD. Why _should_ he trust her anymore than he trusted them?

"I told you she didn't do that!" Jason vocalized his anger, surprising Rex and the guards at the back of the room. He couldn't understand why Sonny wouldn't take his word, why his boss was so adamant that Cordelia was involved with them. Almost as if someone was purposely feeding him false information to divert his attention. Then it dawned on him. While Sonny was so interested in Cordelia and what she's doing, Trevor and possibly Claudia have the perfect opportunity for either one of them to attack the organization. "Trevor and Claudia…you're doing exactly what they want you to do! You're focusing on Cordelia instead of them."

Anger etched along the mobster's face. "It doesn't matter!" he cried. He decided to change his tactic along the way and, in a softer voice, said, "I know how much your friends mean to you...especially after losing Cooper Barrett...you'd do anything for them." He watched her eyes when he said the deceased soldier's name. Stan had really come through on the information about her time in Iraq.

"If I agree to do this, do I have your word that you'll let Rex and I walk out of here no questions asked? You won't continue to send men after me?"

"Cordelia!" came from Rex. "You can't be seriously considering this."

"No," Sonny answered; both of them ignoring Rex's outcry. "I'll even have Jason help you. I know how the two of you work so well together." It was clear to Jason then that Sonny was more upset with him than he was letting on. The mobster folded his hands together, his dark eyes glittering. "And just think, you get to use him to get some answers about your sister," Sonny goaded her. Rex was steadily shaking his head and Jason was at a loss for words. "You want your sister back and I'm offering you a shot."

Her hatred for this man was steadily growing by the minute. "You son of a bitch," she replied softly. "You walk around like you're some moral man...some misunderstood person who's held by the impossible choices he's had to make, but you revel in it. You'd use an innocent girl and the fact that she's missing and possibly in very real danger... to get me to..." She couldn't finish the sentence, could barely stand the words burning on her tongue.

"I'm no different than you," he replied smugly. "Just doing what I have to do in order to survive. Surely…_you_ can appreciate that." The look in his eyes told her he knew something about her past that he was saving for a later time. Some deep secret that he thought would move her to do his bidding. "What's your answer?" he asked Cordelia with dark eyes.

Cordelia glanced at Rex briefly. Rex was steadily shaking his head and Jason was at a loss for words. If she didn't agree, Sonny wouldn't let him go. He wouldn't let either of them go no matter what Jason tried to tell him. Maybe if she agreed…Sonny would be willing to help her. "Fine…I'll do it," she chose her words carefully. She didn't trust this egomaniac any more than he trusted her "…but you have to do something for me."

Before either of them could say anything else, Taggert burst through the doors. He saw Jason standing at Cordelia's side as she sat before Sonny. "Oh, look. It's Angerboy and Angergirl." He locked eyes with all of them before turning his attention to Sonny.

"What do you want, Taggert?" Sonny asked with clear animosity. "I've already answered your questions about the shooting in the hospital."

"I'm not here for that, Sonnyboy," the detective replied smugly. "I'm here to bring you and Angerboy here in for questioning. Anthony Zacharra was found murdered in his hospital room and the two of you are the prime suspects."


	32. Chapter 31

**Author's Note:** It has been FAR too long since I've updated this story. I'd been busy with school and life and...blah. 

**Chapter 31; Gravedigger:**

Her phone has been ringing off the hook for the past twenty minutes. As soon as she turned the corner to the courthouse, Alexis was bombarded with questions. She could hardly make it out her car door before some intrepid reporter thrust a tape recorder in her face. Luckily, a few uniformed police officers were waiting by the underground elevator doors to keep the leeches at bay. She heard one of the officers - Scotty Andrews - telling one of the particularly rabid reporters that since he was on government property, he had the right to restrain him for any reason he deemed fit. Alexis smiled to herself as the elevator doors closed. She would have to get Scotty Andrews a very nice Christmas present.

She walked quickly and stealthily to her outer office, her clerk giving her at least ten phone messages before she went inside her actual office and closed the door.

Alexis answered the phone cautiously; she really didn't have a choice since she _is_ the District Attorney after all. "Davis," she said with a hint of steel in her voice. When she realized it was yet another person calling to get her quote for their article on Anthony Zacharra's death, she hung up the phone.

Pulling her glasses off and tossing them to the desk, Alexis fell back against the chair in a frustrated attempt to keep herself calm and sane. She felt the same cold feeling of dread filling her stomach that always accompanied something worse. She wasn't sure how things could get any worse than this, but she knew it was possible.

Facts were these: Anthony Zacharra was found murdered in his hospital room. A hospital room that had limited access: His attorneys - father and son Lansing, his children (one of whom was just released from prison and the other who despised him), nurses, doctors and only select law enforcement: herself, Mac, Taggert, Lucky Spencer and Cruz Garcia.

How anyone from any opposing family could sneak into the room that was guarded twenty-four hours a day by uniformed patrols and security cameras, to shoot him point blank, close range to the heart and head was beyond her.

Yet, deep inside, she knew it was possible.

Anyone could have paid off a nurse or doctor to kill the aging mob kingpin. Anyone in Anthony's own organization could have done it. Trevor certainly hated being told what to do, especially given he'd run the organization for years while keeping Anthony in a mentally incapacitated state. Claudia made no qualms about publicly verbalizing the hatred she held for her father.

And Johnny…well, Johnny was the most surprising of them all. To be as young as he was, he was certainly disciplined. He held himself in a certain way that reminded Alexis of her brother Stefan. She had no doubt about the hatred the young man carried for his father, but it was different from his sister. Where Claudia hated that she was banished and made to feel an outsider, Johnny appeared to hate being a part of the life. Killing his father could prove to be his way out.

The more Alexis pondered the many outcomes, the more she realizes mostly everyone involved had motive.

If that wasn't enough to make her sorry she had gotten out of bed this morning, the thought of an all-out mob war was. It would be inevitable now with Anthony being murdered the way he had been. Someone from his organization would undoubtedly blame Sonny. There would be retaliation; vengeance for a man who made a life in violence. Innocent people would be caught in the crossfire and any of her daughters could be one of them.

It was almost more than she could bear.

And now Mac had come to her with the troubling news of a mole in the PCPD. While she tended to be wary of any information that came from Jason Morgan, she had no reason to doubt Mac or Lucky, or even the FBI agent they had brought with them. At any rate, Alexis felt she owed Jason for his part in saving Sam's life.

After minimal convincing on their part, Alexis agreed to question the shipping yard manager they arrested during the raid. Of all the men on the Zacharra's payroll, he was the one with the most to lose. She had no doubt he was an honest man, and only looked the other way a few times when the Zacharras either paid him handsomely or threatened him to do so. A married man with five children and a ton of medical bills tended to be more compliant than everyone else.

Alexis was willing to play her part in Mac's little scheme for two reasons: one, they needed to find out who the mole was and two, he didn't arrest Sam for her part in all of this. Mac Scorpio was also going to get a very nice, if not _obscenely_ _expensive_, Christmas gift.

There were some days when Alexis just wanted to pitch this job and go back to Greece.

This was turning into one of them.

There was a quick knock on her door and her clerk stuck her auburn head inside without opening the door too widely. "Alexis?" she called softly. Alexis opened her eyes and looked at the young woman. The clerk gave a half smile. "Ric Lansing is here to see you."

And so the games begin. "Tell him if he has a confession to make, to find the nearest police officer," Alexis sighed, her lips settling into a thin line.

Ric didn't wait for either woman to say or do anything else. He pushed past the short, petite clerk that blocked his path and barged into Alexis' office. He'd heard what she said (of course) and gazed at her with annoyance.

"Thank you, Shellie," Alexis said to the clerk who closed the door softly when she left. The Cassadine princess turned her equally annoyed gaze to her ex-husband. "Come to confess your sins, Ric?" she asked.

"This is no time to joke, Alexis," Ric chastised as he sat down.

"Jokes are all you and I have, Ric," she quipped lightly with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I can't seem to take you seriously anymore." She saw annoyance flash in his dark eyes. "Since I was supposed to meet you in interrogation in fifteen minutes, can I gather that you've made a special trip to my office to confer or is there something else?" She leaned back in the chair, amused at the irritation on his face. "Which hoop did the Zacharras demand you jump through now?"

Arching a brow at her, Ric chose to otherwise ignore her insult. "I came up to find out if any charges will be filed against Claudia and/or John Zacharra in the death of their father."

Alexis flashed him a cold smile. "Of course, you did." Her voice, although dripping with sarcasm, was even when she continued, "You've wasted a trip because as far as I know, no arrests have been made in Anthony Zacharra's death at the moment, but that is likely to change in an hour or so." Alexis leaned forward, put her glasses on again, and went about perusing the file on her desk. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'd like to prepare." She didn't bother to glance up at him.

"I want to know if there _are_ charges brought against my clients, will this office seek justice fairly and not use the legal system as a tool in a vendetta." Ric continued on, aware that his question insinuated favoritism and that she would allow that to interfere in her job. It was, he found, the quickest way to get a reaction out of her.

Something in his tone of voice made her irate. It flashed hotly in her eyes but the Cassadine resolve that's helped her greatly in her career took hold quickly. She raised her eyes to the man she once loved and a cold look settled between them.

"This office will seek justice against the guilty party to the highest extent possible…no matter who they are. There will be no bargains, no plea deals, and no suspended sentences." Her voice dropped dangerously low at the end. "Anthony Zacharra, as vile a human as he was, was brutally murdered in an incapacitated state. He deserved to be punished by the law, not some vigilante with a skewered sense of justice."

"You and I both know who did this, Alexis," Ric claimed boldly.

She shook her head at his audacity. "No, I _don't_ know who did this, but I intend to find out. I know that Corinthos and Morgan are the obvious prime suspects but I do not know expressly of their guilt." At the expression on Ric's face, she continued. "I can see that you don't like my answer. Is it because I'm not jumping to conclusions that will ultimately benefit someone that you work for?" She shrugged. "I know there are probably hundreds of reasons that Sonny and Jason should be in jail, just like I know a few why _you_ should be in jail as well. I'm not going to let you try to manipulate this office, Ric, no matter who you work for."

She sighed heavily, feeling revulsion creeping through her. Standing, she gathered files and walked over to the door. "I'd really like to prepare for my interrogation now."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Ric tried one last attempt at riling her. "So long as my clients are treated fairly and not harassed simply because of their surname," he said while standing to face her.

With her hand on the knob, Alexis finally let a little of her annoyance show. "You know what I don't understand? I don't understand how you can practically fly all the way across town to defend someone on the Zacharra's payroll and ask me if I'm filing charges against two known criminals, but can't come to ask me how your daughter is, or better yet, drive across town to _see_ your daughter." She yanked the door open. "Get out," she told him. "Go prepare your client; I'll be downstairs in ten minutes."

Ric walked slowly to the door, stopping just outside and turned to face her. "Alexis…" he began in one last failed attempt to get her to see reason.

"And while you're at it, after you leave here to prepare Johnny and Claudia, you might want to take a moment and prepare both yourself and your father for questions. You all had access to Anthony Zacharra's hospital room, and none of you are short on motives."

The slamming of the door in his face amused the assistant sitting at the desk. She watched him go with a smile on her red lips.

Fifteen minutes later when Alexis entered the interrogation room with Mac, she found Ric seated next to the Zacharra's ship yard manager, Martin Skaldic. He'd been arrested a week ago in the police raid on the docks, arraigned the very next day through someone on the Zacharra payroll (as were most of the men that had been arrested), but was now called into the PCPD for questioning.

Ric watched her with muted interest as she sat down in the chair opposite them. He noted the way her eyes remained cold and her exquisite face remained passive, and knew she had something up her sleeve. There was something about to take place that he wasn't at all prepared for, he felt, but he now had his guard up.

Mac stayed planted near the door, watching Martin intently. Ric figured Mac was searching for any type of reaction Martin would give, as the police often did. Hell, he's done it himself. It was a very good tactic to learn. Knowing when to push buttons to get the results you want is something every law school should teach.

For his part, Martin Skaldic looked mortified.

After a few minutes of silence, Ric had had enough of the waiting. "Alright, enough of the scare tactics," he said, aware that his own voice wasn't as steady as he wanted it to be.

Alexis leveled him with a cold glare before bringing the manila folder she carried with her to the table. Opening it, she laid out pictures in front of Martin. In several of the photographs were canisters of drugs, the label clearly seen on either side of the can. In a few, were Martin and a few others of the Zacharra soldiers handling the boxes the canisters came in.

"What is this?" Ric asked. Mac noted the lawyer looked almost as nervous as his client.

"Those are canisters of drugs being shipped in and out through the Zacharra ports," Mac replied from the door. "And I do believe Mr. Skaldic is photographed handling some of those boxes."

Ric scoffed. "My client is a shipping yard manager. He handles boxes all day long. He's not inclined to know what is in each and every box that comes through the yard." A weak defense, Ric knew, but he had to save face. Alexis had been far too quiet throughout this entire process.

"Mr. Skaldic," Alexis began in even tones, drawing a pair of frightened green eyes her way. "Would you really believe that a man with your years of experience at this job wouldn't know every single item on his manifest?"

Martin lowered his eyes and shook his head. Ric touched his arm before speaking. "You have my client doing his job, nothing more. These pictures certainly aren't enough to get a jury to convict on the drug trafficking charges you've lobbed against him."

Alexis kept her voice level and her gaze fixed on Martin when she addressed him again. "Mr. Skaldic, has your attorney made you aware that in certain trafficking cases, such as hallucinogenic drugs, under the name company of individuals involved in organized crime, such as the Zacharras, falls under RICO violations?"

Ric felt the walls start to crumble but had to decency to look worried. Alexis bit back a smile. Martin looked over nervously at Ric, whose face told him the severity of what she just said was bad. "No," he looked back at Alexis. "Wh-what's that mean?"

Alexis sighed and leaned forward. "It means that if I charge just one member of the Zacharra organization with drug trafficking, I charge you all. Same amount of time served if convicted." The look Alexis gave after saying that proved to all of them that he would be convicted.

"I can't go to jail!" Martin became unraveled. The frenzied fear in his green eyes was almost palpable. He looked at each member of law enforcement. "I can't go to jail…I…I have a family." He choked back a sob. "My boy…he's…"

Everyone in the room knew about Martin Skaldic's sick son. Alexis was sure that information was the reason he sitting in this room right now. She was a parent; she understood the risks a parent was willing to take in protecting and providing for their child.

Ric touched the sobbing man's arm. "What are you offering?"

"Full-fledged immunity and protection for the entire Skaldic family if he tells me everything, and I mean, _everything_ about the drugs, the shipments and anything else he needs to say to clear his conscience."

Alexis stood and left the room with Mac and waited while Ric leaned over the devastated man and advised him of the best possible course of action. She'd heard the man mention he'd been as good as in a shallow grave when he started in with Zacharras. Silently, she couldn't help but wonder if she was digging him another.

They were barely outside the door two minutes, just long enough to see Sonny, Jason and the young woman she now learned was Cordelia Roberts being brought in for questioning, when Ric appeared outside the door. She walked back inside with incredible poise and closed the door behind her. Sitting again at the table, she looked only at Martin.

The man raised his eyes to meet hers with a look she couldn't place. Alexis recognized it a second later as bravery. Martin surely had to realize that Ric's first interest was to the Zacharra head, and that Claudia (now in charge thanks to her father's murder) was just as likely to kill him for whatever he was going to say.

"You promise me that you'll get my family somewhere safe, somewhere that even me or my attorney (_aha, so he didn't trust Ric)_ doesn't know…and I'll tell you everything I know. But they have to be safe first." On that point, Alexis knew he was adamant. He, too, would need protection…even from Ric. She was working all of that out in her head to tell Mac.

"Done," she said before standing and leaving the room again. Now, after realizing she could be sending this man to his death, she really did feel like a gravedigger.


End file.
